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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670087">fractal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberry_paint/pseuds/strawberry_paint'>strawberry_paint</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Deaf Yaku Morisuke, Depression, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Koe no Katachi AU, M/M, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 07:14:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>57,341</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberry_paint/pseuds/strawberry_paint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After bullying his hearing impaired classmate, Yaku Morisuke, Kuroo loses all his friends. Years later, he starts the hard journey of making amends- and begins listening to what really matters.</p>
<p>*        *<br/>Koe no Katachi/A Silent Voice AU</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou/Yaku Morisuke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. start</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!! </p>
<p>         **<br/>Recently, I saw some very wonderful fanart of <a href="https://twitter.com/acidulication/status/1170753793878831104"> A Silent Voice AU</a> by nostra. I had a lot of ideas, so I really wanted to write a fanfiction based off of it. Please go check out all their art <a href="https://twitter.com/acidulication">here!</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sound comes from impact.</p><p>Ears are the link to hearing that sound. They turn the noise into something important. Sound is made on purpose, to communicate and get a point across. Or, as the saying goes, some people just like the sound of their own voice.</p><p>But there are some things that make sound without ever hearing it. </p><p>Take fireworks for example. </p><p>They’re loud, colorful, bright. The vibrations of their explosions can be felt from all the way down on Earth. </p><p>But fireworks will never hear their own sound. They explode right as the noise starts.</p><p> </p><p>*********</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo wasn’t used to a silent classroom.  Usually the room was filled with chatter as students whispered about a new show they watched or a homework question. Kuroo wasn’t used to silence, but no one dared to speak as the new kid walked into the room.</p><p>“Alright class,” Takeda-sensei announced. “We have a new student joining us today. Yaku-san’s transferring to our class for the year.” Kuroo watched with perceptive eyes as the boy kept his gaze at the ground. The first thing he noticed was the fact that Yaku-san’s blonde hair was so choppy it looked like it had been cut by a 5 year old. He also had these weird things stuck in his ears.</p><p>“Would you like to introduce yourself?”</p><p>There was a long pause. No one dared to open their mouths. Kuroo waited. He glanced over at Tsukki, but he looked disinterested like always.</p><p>“Oh, um,” Takeda-sensei tapped the boy on his shoulder. He flinched the slightest bit, embarrassed. Kuroo watched as he unclipped his red backpack and pulled out a notebook labeled, ‘For Conversations.’ In front of him, Oikawa whispered, “What?” A few other students murmured in confusion.</p><p>Now Kuroo was really intrigued. What was this guy with the bad haircut going to do? Why wasn’t he introducing himself? </p><p>The boy opened his notebook. On it, there were words written in neat characters.</p><p>
  <em> Nice to meet you. My name is Yaku Morisuke. </em>
</p><p>He flipped to the next page and held it out.</p><p>
  <em> I hope to get to know everyone in this class. If you want to talk to me, please write in this notebook. </em>
</p><p>Kuroo felt his chest tighten in expectation as Yaku-san turned to another page and held it up to his head.</p><p>
  <em> I can’t hear. </em>
</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“He’s deaf?”</p><p>“That’s sick.”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“What happened to his ears?”</p><p>Deaf…</p><p>
  <em> Deaf.</em>
</p><p>“Seriously?!” Kuroo shouted in surprise.</p><p>Takeda-sensei fixed him with a look as a few students giggled at his reaction. “Here, Yaku-san, you can go sit in front of Kuroo-san.” Yaku slid into the desk, fists clenched and eyes fixated on the polished wood floor.</p><p>“Watch people, Tetsu,” His mom had said to him once, after he had asked how she could always guess the haircuts customers wanted.</p><p>
  <em> Was this guy really deaf? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> How did he talk? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Why was he so upset? </em>
</p><p>“Watch and everything else will reveal itself.”</p><p>“Alright, now turn to page 23 in your science notebook. We’re going to talk about weather patterns today…”</p><p> </p><p>*                                *    </p><p>During lunchtime, people crowded around Yaku’s desk, which, annoyingly, happened to be in front of Kuroo’s. He moved to sit by Daishou, but Tsukki had stayed.</p><p>“Do…you…play…any…sports?” Oikawa asked slowly, bending down to write in Yaku’s precious notebook. Kuroo watched as Yaku nodded, his whole face lighting up.</p><p>“Oh, volleyball?” Oikawa exclaimed in his over-the-top way, perfect eyebrows shooting up. Kuroo stiffened. Volleyball was <em> his </em> thing.</p><p>Tsukki cupped a hand around his mouth. “Hey, Yaku-san, are you even tall enough to touch the bottom of the net?” Kuroo couldn’t help his smirk. Tsukishima just said things in such a condescending way, it was hard not to be amused.</p><p>Oikawa laughed a little, facing him. “Don’t be mean, Tsukki-kun. Not everyone’s blessed with your height.”</p><p>Yaku turned in his seat and handed Tsukki his notebook.</p><p>“Ah, no thanks,” Tsukishima muttered, eyes wide in that irritated-but-amused way. Yaku glared at him.</p><p>Oikawa jumped in to suffocate the tension. “So, what type of position do you like to play? You should consider joining our team. We don’t play in any tournaments, but-”</p><p>“KUROO!”</p><p>“Huh?” Kuroo spun around in his seat, cheeks burning in embarrassment.</p><p>“Earth to Kuroo the eavesdropper! Are you here with us down here?” Tendou wiggled one of his fingers in front of Kuroo’s face.</p><p>“If the conversation has to do with volleyball, he can’t <em>not</em> listen,” Daishou teased.</p><p>“Come on, that’s not true!” Kuroo protested. “I just thought the new guy was more of a soccer person.” He lowered his voice. “Let’s hope he doesn’t try to join the volleyball club though.”</p><p>Daishou clicked his chopsticks together in agreement. “Yeah, it’d be so much trouble to play with a deaf kid.”</p><p> “Mmm, I dunno. It could be fun,” Tendou’s lips curled up. Kuroo frowned at him, mad that he was disagreeing with him <em> now</em>, of all times.</p><p>“We don’t have time for fun, Tendou-kun; it’s our last year on Nekoma’s team.” Kuroo buried the heels of his tennis shoes into the floor. If any of his team got distracted with a new kid, one who was deaf and hard to work with, it would make this whole volleyball season a mess of miscommunication.</p><p> </p><p>*                          *</p><p>Kuroo liked Science, he really did, honestly. He had signed up for the advanced classes for a reason. But physics might just be the worst unit to exist. Plus, he just couldn’t focus on the work today, distracted by anything and everything.</p><p>Maybe it was just the way Takeda-sensei said things that made Kuroo pay less attention to him and more to the world.</p><p>“Graphs recording the trajectory of an object have several important parts to keep in mind. This is the first,” Takeda-sensei turned to the board to start drawing an example.</p><p>Kuroo watched as Yaku turned his head back and forth, struggling to follow Takeda-sensei. Tsukki shifted in his seat, leaning forward to tap on Yaku’s shoulder. “Give me your notebook,” He said. Tsukki had been in a good mood all day. Apparently, (meaning according to Oikawa) his brother’s team had won another game in the local high school tournament.</p><p>“The peak of the graph shows us how high the ball will go before falling…”</p><p>Yaku brightened and handed his science notebook to Tsukki. He started writing down words rapidly. Kuroo admired Tsukki: he was good at school, so good, in fact, that he got moved up a grade.</p><p>“Our y-axis is where it starts.”</p><p>Tsukki gave Yaku his journal back and resumed taking his own notes. Minutes later, out of the corner of his eye, Kuroo saw Yaku pushing his notebook onto Tsukki’s desk. He begrudgingly took it, and Kuroo watched helplessly as Tsukishima’s good mood ebbed away with every stroke of pencil. He looked up to glare at Yaku, but the boy already had a frustrated expression on his face.</p><p>Kuroo couldn’t help feeling angry at him anyway.</p><p> </p><p>*                            *</p><p>Two weeks into the start of the school year, and it was finally the first day of volleyball practice. The filtered sun shined through the gym windows, the excited chatter of the members fluttered to the high ceiling, and the sound of the squeaky-wheeled volleyball cart rolled through the P.E. building. Kuroo bounced on his toes, grinning. He was back on the court where he belonged. Plus, he was captain of the team this year and an older kid that everyone was going to be looking up to.</p><p>“Alright, alright, welcome back!” Coach Noai clapped his hands loudly. “Circle up.” Kuroo moved in closer, nudging Daishou, who gave him a smirk in reply.  “I’m not going to get into new introductions, since the 2nd years aren’t joining the official team until May. I just want to say that this is going to be a great season of volleyball. I’ve even got us signed up for a mock tournament at the end of the year.” Kuroo’s mouth widened in untamable excitement. “We’re going to start practice with serves and receives. Get going.”</p><p>Kuroo got into the serving line next to Oikawa. “So how’s your jump serve going?” Kuroo asked, because he knew it was a touchy subject, and he enjoyed seeing Oikawa’s face sour.</p><p>“I’m still working on it, Kuro-chan. You’ll know when it’s perfected. It’ll be the best serve you’ll ever see,” Oikawa spun the volleyball in his hands with a grin.</p><p>“Oh ho ho? Is that a challenge?” Kuroo side-eyed him before tossing his volleyball into the air. He smiled when his hand hit it satisfyingly. Serving was tricky and hard to aim, but looked like it was going to go over the net this time.  Before he could cheer, a blur raced forward and received it off kilter.</p><p>“What?” Oikawa screeched over dramatically, voice echoing around the gym. Yaku-san looked up, sweat dripping down his forehead. He glared at Kuroo, daring him, <em> taunting </em> him. The <em> nerve </em> of this guy and his awfully cut hair.</p><p>“What the heck? I didn’t even notice he was there,” Kuroo growled, not bothering to hide his irritation. Maybe it was petty, but he couldn’t help it.</p><p>“I mean, I did tell him about the club,” Oikawa muttered with a pout as he lifted his hand up to serve.</p><p>“My, my,” Tendou said in a cheerful tone. “This’ll be a fun year.”</p><p>Kuroo kept watching as Yaku-san ran around the court, trying to receive serves with an angry passion that was supposed to be reserved for people taking their last breath.</p><p>“What a weirdo,” Tsukki grumbled. “Why waste the energy? Here, Kuroo.” He felt the smooth surface of a volleyball being placed into his palm. “Don’t want to let the 5th years see their captain slacking off. Which you are doing, by the way.” Kuroo frowned at him, trying not to let Tsukki see just how upset he was. The first serve of the year, and it had been received by Yaku, the deaf kid who sat in front of him.</p><p>He started getting ready to serve again. When he looked up, he met Yaku-san’s eyes across the net. Kuroo watched Yaku smile smugly, and he felt peeved all over again. <em> Not again. </em> There was no way he was going to let this new guy ruin his volleyball season.</p><p> </p><p>*                            *</p><p>While most people would view Kuroo’s friendship with Tendou and Daishou as less-than-friendly, teasing each other was just something that they did. No matter what they were doing, whether it was volleyball practice or lunch or, like right now, walking to their next class, one of them had some jab to say.</p><p>“Mika-chan was looking at you earlier today, Daishou,” Kuroo said with a leering smile, “during choir practice.”</p><p>“Wait, really!?” Daishou perked up. He turned a little pink. Sure, Daishou was a cunning jerk most of the time, but he had a soft spot named Mika Yamaka.</p><p>“Oh? You weren’t watching her like you normally do?” Tendou said in a patronizing voice.</p><p>“Well, choir practice was kind of a disaster,” Daishou said reluctantly. “Yaku-san starts at all the wrong times. And Oikawa’s dancing is kind of distracting.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Kuroo agreed. “I hate singing anyway though, so it’s fine. More time for volleyball if we don’t win, right?” Even as he said it, all he could think about was Tsukki’s condescending tone, and the way he shamelessly whispered, ‘<em>There goes the choir contest.’ </em></p><p>“It’s annoying to the people who like it. Maybe he should just lip-sync it?” Daishou suggested.</p><p>“Yeah, but there’s no cure for Oikawa’s dancing-”</p><p>“I’m <em> so </em> tired of writing things down for him. Takeda-sensei talks way too fast; I just can’t keep up.” Their conversation halted as Tsukki’s voice floated down the polished stairwell.</p><p> “Oh, you can borrow my notes!” Oikawa chirped.</p><p>Yaku-san. They were talking about Yaku, who, yet again, was bothering Tsukki.</p><p>It was bad enough that he followed the team around, always a few steps behind. It was bad enough that he never spoke and, instead, just watched people with those piercing brown eyes. And it was <em> definitely </em>plain bad that he kept pushing that annoying notebook towards anyone who opened their mouths.</p><p>He was weird.</p><p>All these things annoyed the crap out of Kuroo, but bringing down Tsukki in class just crossed the line.</p><p>Tsukishima let out a tired sigh. “Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”</p><p>“Yeah, I am.”  The soft sound of shoes on tile slowly faded away as Oikawa and Tsukki left. Kuroo didn’t dare to speak. He felt like he was simmering on high heat inside. Yaku just rubbed him the wrong way. Kuroo exchanged a look with Daishou.</p><p>“Oikawa’s dancing,” Tendou shamelessly whispered into the silence, which caused all of them to burst out laughing.</p><p> </p><p>*                          *</p><p>“I’m going to get something sweet after school,” Tsukki announced after practice, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He sent Kuroo a meaningful look.</p><p>“Uh, enjoy it?” Kuroo hopped down the gym’s stone steps and onto the sandy ground. He still felt the satisfying ache of a good practice in his muscles. Kuroo knew the science behind building your muscles. He knew this meant he was going to get stronger.</p><p>Next to him, Daishou snickered. He elbowed Kuroo. “Yeah, <em> enjoy </em> it.” Kuroo glared at him, torn between confused and amused.</p><p>“Hey, I wanna come!” Oikawa yelled excitedly, bouncing on his toes. “I never get to go anywhere with my friends!”</p><p>“Oh, I wonder why,” Tsukki replied in a deadpan voice, not even trying to hide his displeasure.</p><p>Kuroo couldn’t help the hyena laugh that felt like it came straight from his stomach. (Technically, it came from his diaphragm, but whatever.)</p><p>Tsukki smiled at him the slightest bit and looked away. His eyes caught on Yaku, who was trailing behind as he handed his notebook to a kouhai, and his lips pulled down.</p><p>“So, what convenience store do you want to go to? My mom gave me 500 yen, so we can get a lot of candy!” Oikawa bragged, eyeing Tsukishima eagerly.</p><p>“Ooooh, 500 yen,” Tendou dragged the last syllable out before sticking his tongue out towards Oikawa.</p><p>“Gross,” Oikawa complained. Kuroo smiled at the antics. On court, they were serious, but outside of it was total chaos. Everything they did was for fun.  </p><p>“Let’s go,” Tsukishima said suddenly.</p><p>“Huh? Why right away?” Kuroo asked, grin fading.</p><p>“Tsukishima-san’s right. I’ve got to get to cram school,” Daishou said, a look of horror crossing his face.</p><p>“See you later, guys. Bye-Bye, Yaku-san,” Tsukki said, but he barely spared Yaku a glance. Oikawa waved at them. They walked off towards the cross walk. It seemed like Oikawa was doing most of the talking, and Tsukki just ignoring him.</p><p>“Sooooooo, cram school,” Tendou sang, lips curling up mischievously at the scowl Daishou gave him.</p><p>“Cram school, huh? What, did your parents finally see how dumb you are?” Kuroo teased, trying to shake the strange feeling he got from Tsukki’s departure.</p><p>“Oh, shut up, Kuroo,” Daishou growled, storming away.</p><p>Tendou shrugged. “See ya.” He skipped down the sidewalk, leaving Kuroo alone. Well, not alone, <em> alone</em>.</p><p>Kuroo turned to Yaku, who was frowning as he shoved his notebook into his backpack. <em> Yaku was so odd</em>. He decided ignoring him would be the best option.</p><p>The setting sun soaked everything in orange. That meant Kuroo still had time to play at the park. His favorite piece of equipment was definitely the red jungle gym, so he headed there first. He put a foot on one of the bars and climbed up, up, up. There was just something about feeling the sun shine on your face that was so…satisfying.</p><p>Being on top of the monkey bars felt like seeing the view over the blocker’s finger tips. The jungle gym was the only thing that got even close to replicating that feeling.</p><p>Kuroo broke out of the trance when he felt the vibration of the iron bar in his grip. He turned to look at Yaku, who was smiling slightly. He had his eyes closed. Did that mean he couldn’t sense anything? If his ears didn’t work, when he closed his eyes, was his world sealed off? Kuroo felt frustration well up alongside his questions. He dropped down to the ground. Ignoring him wasn’t working.</p><p>Yaku climbed down the side of the monkey bars with trained steps. Kuroo looked up and saw the glimmer in his eyes. He was still gripping one of the bars with a tiny hand. Yaku turned to him, looking confused and a…a little happy? He felt the same weird feeling he did when Yaku tried to hand him his notebook.</p><p>The desire to listen. To communicate.</p><p>Unfortunately, there were a lot of things that made it impossible. “You know,” Kuroo started, “everyone’s getting tired of you and your weird journal.”</p><p>Yaku tilted his head. The sun outlined every inch of him, from his terribly cut hair, to his dirty tennis shoes, to the Band-Aids on his elbows and the plug things in his ears. It was hard to focus on the negative things about Yaku when his freckles were really distracting Kuroo. Freckles were the results of melanin.</p><p>A gift from the sun.</p><p>“L-look,” Kuroo started, hating the way his hands were shaking. “You might think you were impressive with those receives, but everyone’s tired of you slamming into them during practice. It’s going to drag the whole team down. I’ve worked too hard for you to flush it down the drain like this!”</p><p>Yaku was still smiling, apparently not understanding anything that Kuroo had just said. That just frustrated him more. Yaku pointed at Kuroo, and he tensed, thinking they were going to fight or something. He moved his finger to point to himself, clasped his hands together, and shook them once. “Frinends?”</p><p>Kuroo was so surprised to hear him speak- even if it was in that muffled voice- that he couldn’t respond for a moment.</p><p>“What? You-You,” Kuroo dug his fingers into the cold dirt. Who was this guy anyway? Acting as if they didn’t hate each other? Where was the sharp Yaku? The one who was easy to stay away from? “You’re a freak!” He threw the dirt, standing up in a rush. Yaku flinched, abandoning the clasped hands to raise them up and cover his face.</p><p><em> He wasn’t guilty. He wasn’t guilty. </em>Kuroo stood up and ran home, not daring to look back.</p><p>For some reason, he felt like crying.</p><p>                                 *                        </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. overalls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>More problems arise concerning Yaku. Kuroo makes a few mistakes.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!!<br/>**</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tight feeling in his throat was gone the next morning. Even though it was cloudy gray outside, Kuroo felt oddly cheerful. He had gotten 100 on his science quiz, aced the gym exam, and even made Tsukki to laugh one time. Plus, his mom had packed him fish for lunch! Nothing was going to break his good luck streak. He was invincible! </p>
<p>“So, I saw you hanging out with Yaku-san yesterday,” Tendou said during lunch break.</p>
<p>There it goes.</p>
<p>“Oh, a date!” Daishou teased, probably as revenge for yesterday’s cram school incident.</p>
<p>His <em> wonderful </em> mood, slipping through his fingers like water.</p>
<p>“If you say any more gross romantic things, I swear I’m going to tell Mika-chan,” Kuroo threatened. A leering smirk slid across his face at Daishou’s reaction.</p>
<p>“Don’t!”</p>
<p>“Besides,” Kuroo pulled out his chopsticks, “that’s totally gross! He’s so irritable. <em> Impossible </em> to get along with.”</p>
<p>“He’s good at playing volleyball,” Daishou said absent-mindedly.</p>
<p>“You’re just upset because he received your serve,” Tendou added, wiggling his eyebrows. Kuroo’s shoulders tightened. While he was observant at best, Tendou was on a whole different level.</p>
<p>“I’m right,” Tendou gleefully took a bite of rice. That irritating guess monster and his ridiculous bowl cut. Speaking of bad haircuts…Kuroo looked over at Yaku, who was sitting alone, angrily shoving meat into his mouth like a chipmunk. There’s another reason to dislike him. Fish was obviously better.</p>
<p>“So what?” Kuroo countered, tearing his eyes away to glare at Tendou. He was about to come up with a retort that would push his buttons, but Takeda-sensei interrupted him.</p>
<p>“Class, lunch time’s over. Get back in your seats and take out your book.”</p>
<p>Kuroo cleaned up his lunch and slid into his seat next to Tsukki, who chose to pretend he didn’t see Kuroo’s smile of greeting. Things were tough with Tsukki. Sometimes he was cool, making snarky comments and practicing blocking late into the evening with Kuroo, but other times he showed complete disinterest in everything. Tsukishima Kei was a pendulum. Oikawa told him that it usually had to do with his brother. (Not that Oikawa’s gossip had much merit.)</p>
<p>“Alright, Tsukishima-san, start reading page 82 for us.” Tsukki stood up with a blank expression. His eyes were narrowed behind his red glasses.</p>
<p>“‘But I didn’t do anything wrong,’” Tsukki started in a flat voice, “‘So I’ll never say I’m sorry-’”</p>
<p>“Why are you reading so slow and emotionlessly?” Takeda-sensei interrupted. “That’s enough.”</p>
<p>Tsukki dropped down into his seat with a scowl, the flush on his cheeks the only sign of his embarrassment. “Four eyes,” he muttered. Kuroo decided not to comment on the fact that Tsukki was wearing glasses too. </p>
<p>“Alright, Yaku-san,” Takeda-sensei said. Oikawa turned around in his seat to point at where Yaku should read.</p>
<p>As he stood up, Kuroo was struck with how short he looked. Yaku held out his book and then, with an air of confidence that in equal parts both confused and annoyed Kuroo, he started reading.</p>
<p>And, really, Kuroo shouldn’t be surprised. Just because Yaku acted like he was good at reading didn’t mean he actually was.</p>
<p><em> Really</em>, because Kuroo had heard him speak before, he shouldn’t be surprised by how high-pitched and muffled Yaku’s voice sounded.</p>
<p>Instead of listening, he found himself focusing on how warped and badly pronounced everything was.</p>
<p>“Thank…you, Yaku-san,” Takeda pushed up his glasses and forced a nod of his head. Yaku sat down with a stolen smile.</p>
<p>“Are you kidding me?” Tsukki’s bad mood was obvious now.</p>
<p>“Kuroo-san, your turn,” Takeda-sensei called, eyeing Kuroo with raised eyebrows. Kuroo felt a frustrated smirk push its way into his features.</p>
<p>He stood up and held his book out far in front of him. Tsukki caught on immediately.</p>
<p>It was unfair that Yaku got away with things that Tsukki didn’t just because he couldn’t hear. That’s what Kuroo told himself to ease the inch of guilt.</p>
<p>“Mwha mm hwo ha,” He tried to contain the butterflies in his stomach that came with getting away with something like this. “Maroh eeah-”</p>
<p>“That’s enough,” Takeda-sensei said sharply. “Unless you’d like detention?”</p>
<p>“No sir,” Kuroo replied, sinking down in his chair and biting his lip<em>. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. </em></p>
<p>It was hard to hold it back when everyone around him was giggling.  He even saw Tsukki smile a little. Mission successfully completed, Major Kuroo. </p>
<p>At least Tsukishima felt better.                                                           </p>
<p>                        *               *<br/>
                                                                       “Yaku, could I talk to you?” Coach Noai stopped him after practice. Yaku started pulling his notebook out of his bag. Instead of looking properly nervous, like most should, he was glowing, confident, and apparently proud of his work on court.</p>
<p>It’s like he was<em> asking </em>Kuroo to dislike him.</p>
<p>“The rest of you are dismissed. Good work today!”</p>
<p>“I hope he gets kicked off the team,” Tsukki said bitterly when they got into the safety of the locker room. Things that were said in between the lockers stayed sealed behind the door. Coach never found out about words that were uttered in there. <br/>
<br/>
Basically, it was bad mouthing central. </p>
<p>“Tsukki-kun!” Oikawa scolded, giggling a little. “He’s not that bad.”</p>
<p>“He ran into me when I was trying to receive one of Asahi-san’s spikes,” Daishou complained, pulling on his green shirt. “I called ‘mine!’ and everything. He’s not even good at anything other than defense, but he acts like he’s amazing!”</p>
<p>“He’s just faster than you,” Sugawara-san said in his slow, steady voice. <em> The one he used for the underclassmen. </em>Daishou must’ve sensed the tone because he bristled like an overused scrub brush.</p>
<p>“Mr. Refreshing’s right. He’s definitely better than you, Daishou,” Tendou teased, using the nickname Oikawa came up with. Kuroo was pretty sure it was an insult. Even though Sugawara-san was a great guy, he was a bit…two-sided. He could be so sly sometimes, so <em> fun </em> to watch in action. Unfortunately, he was kind and supportive most of the time, so that side of him almost never showed itself. According to Oikawa (and maybe he was right in this case), it was ‘refreshing’ to know a guy with so much under the surface. Kuroo wasn’t so sure.</p>
<p>Sugawara-san just sighed and walked out the door with Asahi-san.</p>
<p>“What a goody two shoes,” Tsukki said. Kuroo bit his lip. Why were they bullying their teammate? He wasn’t an outsider, and he was someone they should be loyal to. Sugawara-san was a good player; He and Kuroo had been friends since 3rd year. He always had Kuroo’s back.</p>
<p>As captain of the volleyball club, he should do something. As a friend, he shouldn’t let this happen.</p>
<p>This was all Yaku’s fault.</p>
<p>If Yaku hadn’t shown up, Tsukki wouldn’t have been upset with him. If Tsukki hadn’t bad mouthed Yaku, Sugawara-san wouldn’t have said anything in his defense. And if Sugawara-san hadn’t said anything, Tendou wouldn’t have called him ‘Mr. Refreshing’ and nothing would be tearing the team apart. </p>
<p>In summary, Yaku was the push that caused everything to fall down like lined up dominos.</p>
<p>He had to do <em>something</em>. </p>
<p>Kuroo’s eyes landed on Yaku’s clothes, bunched up in the edge of the old, wooden bench. He reached forward and curled his hands around them. Overalls. Stupid Yaku and his terrible fashion sense. He always seemed to choose the opposite of what Kuroo knew was better. “You know, overalls are an atrocity.”</p>
<p>“Hm?” Tendou looked up from where he was putting his pants in his book bag. “What are you doing, Kuroo?”</p>
<p>He ignored him, crumpling the clothes in his hands. All he could think of was the way Yaku smiled smugly when he perfectly received the volleyball, oblivious to the team’s protests around him. Kuroo still had a bruise from where Yaku had bumped into him trying to receive a wayward set. He stormed past the maze of tall lockers and into the bathroom.</p>
<p>He threw the clothes into the on if the western-style toilets. Water seeped into the jean material, and tension seeped out of Kuroo’s shoulders along with it. By the time he had walked back into the main changing room, everyone else had already left. Kuroo looked around for a minute. He walked forward and incidentally bumped into something. Or <em> someone</em>. A tiny certain someone.</p>
<p>“Yaku-san?”</p>
<p>Yaku shot up from the ground, trying to look like he hadn’t been crawling on the floor. He rubbed the back of his right leg with his other foot. Yaku turned around to pull his notebook out of his bag. Kuroo felt like his feet frozen to the ground. Maybe it was guilt that glued him there, forced to watch the silent kid’s reaction play out. Yaku held out a page in front of Kuroo’s eyes.</p>
<p>
  <em> Nice work today Kuroo-san. </em>
</p>
<p>Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows, not sure what to feel. Who did this guy think he was anyway? Was he just stupid? Yaku started writing again as Kuroo dug his nails into his palms.</p>
<p>
  <em> You’re a strong captain. </em>
</p>
<p>“Uh, thanks,” Kuroo grumbled, reminded of the whole reason he did that to Yaku’s clothes.</p>
<p>Because he was a good captain.</p>
<p>A captain who listened to his teammates and their complaints.</p>
<p>A captain who <em> listened</em>.</p>
<p>”Uh, goodbye.” He walked away, irritated with either Yaku or himself. (He wasn’t sure which, but he hoped it was the former.) Yaku pulled the notebook closer to his chest, looking confused and just as frustrated.</p>
<p>On the way home, Kuroo was in a different world. He ignored Daishou’s questions and Tendou’s knowing smirk. Spring flowers that lined the sidewalk curled around his feet, dragging him down until he got to the trashy, but well-loved, salon he called home.                                                                </p>
<p>                      *              *                                                                   </p>
<p>It was the 1st day of May, and bright sunlight filtered into the classroom, reflecting off the polished wooden desks. There was a nice breeze today, so they had opened the windows. Wind ruffled the colorful art projects hung up on the wall and teased Kuroo’s hair until even he would admit it looked like a rooster’s head.</p>
<p>Something new was in the air, and it came in the form of a woman with a long ponytail and a bright smile. “Good Morning, everyone. I’m Suzumeda Kaori, the Sign Language lesion.”</p>
<p>Kuroo slid his eyes from Suzumeda-sensei to Yaku. He stood with his hands clenched at his side. He looked angry, or maybe embarrassed? Something was off with him today; he looked weirder than normal. His choppily cut hair was extra blond in all the light, and it curled around his ears from the humidity. Kuroo could hardly see his ear things from here.</p>
<p>“Do any of you know what sign language is?” The classroom went as silent as it was the day Yaku arrived. “Well, basically, it’s using your hands to speak!” Suzumeda-sensei placed her hands on Yaku’s shoulders. “In order to better communicate with Morisuke-kun, we’ll spend 3 minutes of class every morning learning Sign Language.”</p>
<p>Kuroo looked at his own hands curiously. He was struck with the sudden image of Yaku clasping his fingers together. So that’s what that was- Sign Language. He flexed his fingers a little. Maybe they could use the hand signals during volleyball games! The other teams wouldn’t know what hit them.</p>
<p>Before he could get truly excited, Tsukki stood up. “Suzumeda-sensei?”</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>“Why can’t we just write in his notebook?” He asked in a flat voice.</p>
<p>“Eh?” Suzumeda-sensei’s eyes flickered over to Takeda-sensei. “It’ll be easier for Yaku to communicate if everyone just tries to learn a little Sign! It’s not that hard.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but it’ll be easier for <em> me </em> to write in his notebook.”</p>
<p>Takeda-sensei stepped forward, about to interject.</p>
<p>“’Scuse me! I’ll do it.” Another chair was pushed back as Sugawara stood up, raising his hand the slightest bit. “I’ll learn how to Sign!”</p>
<p>                          *            *    </p>
<p>“So,” Suga said, smile growing in excitement. He had wanted to get closer to his new teammate ever since he had joined the class. It was obvious that Yaku had a passion for volleyball, and everyone who felt that way was good in his book, hearing or otherwise. The whole point of sports was to work together after all! Suga bent down to write in Yaku’s infamous notebook. “Teach…me…to say…Sugawara Koushi!”</p>
<p>Yaku’s eyes lit up. “Su…ga…war…ra.” He paused and waited for Suga to copy him. “Kou…shi.”</p>
<p>“Ah! So, Su…ga,” Sugawara copied, twisting his fingers in an attempt to mimic him.</p>
<p>“Goody two shoes,” Tsukki hissed, turning around to frown at him. Suga felt his insides twist up. Ignore it. Ignore Oikawa’s sharp eyes and Tsukki’s smirk.</p>
<p>“Suga?” Yaku asked, eyebrows tilting down in concern. “Wa…ra.” He signed it again, probably thinking Sugawara didn’t catch it.</p>
<p>“Oh,” Suga copied him and then started writing in Yaku’s notebook. “You can just call me Suga, okay? It’s easier to sign.”</p>
<p>Yaku smiled, and Suga tried to shake off the terrible feeling of being called a name that wasn’t his.</p>
<p>
  <em>*          *</em>
</p>
<p><em>Tweet! </em> “Everyone, back away!” Coach Noai yelled. Suga felt like his knees were made of jelly. He gently reached up to touch his jaw, where Yaku had crashed into him with his conveniently sharp elbow. It throbbed painfully.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry,” Suga said. He waved his other hand a little to shoo away the teammates running up to check on him. “It’s fine: just a bruise.” He tried to see over Coach Noai’s shoulder, so he could catch a glimpse of Mori-kun. Yaku was just too short, though, so he couldn’t find him in the crowd.</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Suga said again, wiggling his tongue around the inside of his injured cheek. He wished they could just get back to playing the game. The ball had soured right to him, and he could have gotten it. Their whole team had been on a roll today; Suga didn’t want to be the one to break that streak. </p>
<p>“Tsukishima, take Sugawara to the nurse’s office.”</p>
<p>“What?!” Suga exclaimed. <em> Not Salty-shima</em>. Plus, if he left Yaku’s side now, everyone was going to bitrate him for running into Suga, even without Tsukishima to start the sharp quips. “No, I’ll just stay and keep playing.”</p>
<p>“Sugawara, go,” Coach said in his stern voice. He pushed Suga forward, past the huddle of sweaty people clamoring around them. Suga caught Yaku’s eye and signed ‘I’m okay’ with a wink. Yaku turned away, scowling, and kicked the volleyball net’s pole.</p>
<p>Suga shook his head slightly as he stumbled into the bright afternoon sunshine and headed towards the main school building.</p>
<p>He and Tsukki walked in silence. Suga clutched at his cheek (which was really starting to hurt) and glared at the ground because he wasn’t brave enough to glare at Salty-shima.</p>
<p>“You called for the ball,” Tsukishima said abruptly.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Suga agreed in a tight voice. He had been called at lot of names in the past week, often behind his back. He didn’t want to tell any grown-ups because that would make him a tattle tell, and besides, they always behaved around teachers. Still, with no adults to supervise, and Tsukki’s mouth pulled up with that telling smirk, an insult was most likely going to be said straight to his face. Again.</p>
<p>Suga was so tired of it. It hurt to listen all the time.</p>
<p>“But he still went for it.”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“What a freak.”</p>
<p>“Look, it’s not Mori-kun’s fault that he can’t hear. And it’s great that he’s very passionate!” Suga turned to meet Tsukki’s eyes. “Maybe you could learn something from him,” he added slyly. Suga shrugged. “Besides, it’s just volleyball, right? We should work together.”</p>
<p>Tsukki’s response came as cool and dead center as always. “Yaku-san is tearing the team apart. Kuroo cares so much about it, and it’s crumbling before his eyes. It’s Yaku-san’s fault, and he’s too arrogant to change.”</p>
<p>Suga didn’t say anything. Instead, he just tightened his fingers around his aching jaw. He could feel his gums tingling from the pain.</p>
<p>“I know you’re tired of it too, Sugawara-san. Stop acting like it doesn’t bother you. You’re obviously annoyed by the nicknames- just give up on him and no one will bother you about it anymore.”</p>
<p>“I’m not.” Suga tried to swallow the wobble in his voice like he swallowed the blood pooling in his mouth.</p>
<p>“Whatever you say, Mr. Refreshing.”</p>
<p>And that hurt the worst. The way he said it, the context of the name, how it related to this situation. It poured into the worst mixture, one that smelled like disaster.</p>
<p>They all thought he was being kind to Yaku just because he was a teacher’s pet. They didn’t really think he was a good person. Everyone thought he was a dishonest guy, didn’t they? Suga ducked into the cold air conditioning, running past Tsukki and into the nurse’s office. If anyone asked, the face he was making was from the mouth pain.<br/>
                                                     </p>
<p>                           *              *                                                                            </p>
<p>Suga found Mori-kun on the stone steps outside the gym. He was still waiting for him, even though the sky was almost navy blue and the shadows were long and scary, waiting to attack kids like him. He was clutching his notebook close to his chest like it was his lifeline, and he tried to apologize to Suga in Sign.</p>
<p>Suga’s mom had told him to listen to everyone, but all he wanted to do right now was speak and let go of all his questions. He knew a total of 5 phrases in Sign. He didn’t know how to ask Yaku why he only had Suga’s bag. He couldn’t see if Mori-kun wanted an extra Band Aid for his bloody knees. He didn’t even know how to sign, ‘I’m not mad at you.’</p>
<p>So he just offered out a hand, pulled Mori-kun off the steps, and prayed Yaku didn’t see how ready he was to give up on him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. chalk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sugawara’s absence leaves the kids frustrated. Kuroo’s relationship with Yaku ascends into full-on hatred.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kuroo’s eyes wandered to Sugawara-san’s empty seat. Even though Suga had left like a low tide, slowly and barely noticeable, the gap in the team was becoming apparent. Suga had been the glue that kept everyone playing nice. Without him, the team was falling apart. If Kuroo hadn’t hated Yaku before, he definitely did now. That jerk had gotten Sugawara so upset he left the school.</p>
<p>At least Yaku seemed unhappy about it. He shoved his lunch into his cheeks like a chipmunk each lunch break and then buried his face into his arms. He stopped trying to communicate with anyone, instead opting to sit alone. His volleyball style had gotten more aggressive lately as well. He shouted ‘Mine!’ in his distractingly strange voice and leapt to wherever the ball was. It got so bad Coach Noai made him sit out of practice one day. Yaku had slammed a volleyball into the ground in response.</p>
<p>Kuroo couldn’t help but feel like he had failed, in a way. He was the captain. It was his job to make sure Sugawara wanted to be on the team. He hadn’t done enough to communicate that to Suga.</p>
<p>So now, as he dutifully cleaned the classroom, he was stuck with his spiteful friends and no filter to keep them out of trouble. </p>
<p>“Wipe off, wipe off, the challllkboard! Why you ask? To give us a new lesson of boooooooring!” </p>
<p>Tendou’s singing was his cue to leave. </p>
<p>He piled the class journal onto Takeda-sensei’s desk and smiled at Daishou. Kuroo guessed it was time to be more supportive of his friends, if he wanted them to stay on the team. At his friendly expression, Daishou stumbled backwards nervously.</p>
<p>“What?” Kuroo snapped, annoyed by his reaction.</p>
<p>“Whenever you smirk, I know you’re up to no good,” Daishou accused. <em>What? </em> That wasn’t right. He smirked when he was frustrated.</p>
<p>“Only when he smirks? Kuroo’s always up to no good,” Tsukki remarked.</p>
<p>“Hey!” Kuroo protested, eyes wandering over to the chalkboard Tendou had finished wiping off, while singing one of his obnoxious songs. The clean, black expanse gave him an idea. “You know what? I’ll show you no good.” He reached forward and grabbed one of the pieces of chalk.</p>
<p>“Yaku-san,” Kuroo said slowly. “Congratulations…”</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” Tsukki asked, sounding amused.</p>
<p>“You really shouldn’t do that,” Oikawa added, but he was laughing.</p>
<p>He wanted to see Yaku’s face when he realized it was all his fault. He wanted him to feel guilty for driving Sugawara-san away.</p>
<p>“All done,” Kuroo said, throwing the chalk piece at the board. It toppled into the tray.</p>
<p>
  <em> *Congrats, Yaku-san! You made Sugawara-san disappear!* </em>
</p>
<p>“You can be such a jerk,” Daishou remarked.</p>
<p>”I’m not that bad.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you are! You ruined my hard work,” Tendou complained.</p>
<p>“Oh, relax. I’ll erase-“</p>
<p>Suddenly, the classroom door slid open, revealing Yaku Morisuke in the flesh, smiling down at the blue flowers in his hands. Mid-way through closing the door, he saw the message and froze like a statue. His face fell, short eyebrows lowering in hurt confusion.</p>
<p>“Oh my goodness!” Kuroo exclaimed, in the most dramatic voice he could muster. (It still had nothing on Oikawa.) “Who would write such a thing?!” Yaku placed the flowers down on a desk, hands gripped so tightly he looked like he was going to punch something. “I’ll just erase that for you.” He smeared the chalk into oblivion. “So you don’t have to see it.” He turned to smile patronizingly at Yaku, who looked…small…in a way. “No need to thank me.” Kuroo could hear the silence behind him and felt the eyes of his friends judging him.</p>
<p>Yaku let out a little sigh and reached forward to grab the piece of chalk Kuroo had thrown seconds earlier. The room waited on their toes for the volcano kid’s next move.</p>
<p>
  <em> thanks </em>
</p>
<p>All he wrote was ‘thanks?’ Why wasn’t he mad? He smiled at Kuroo, and it wasn’t the smug victory smile, or the struggling-to-stay-calm one. It was the soft, exclusive, sunset-after-school one. Kuroo shoved his hands in his pockets, hating how the guilty side of him was at war with the angry one. “I told you not to thank me. Let’s go.” He shouldered past Yaku, ignoring the boy’s stupidly confused look.</p>
<p>*                        *</p>
<p>
  <em> Bam! </em>
</p>
<p>“Oops, sorry, Yaku-san,” Tsukki called, not sounding apologetic at all. Yaku clutched his ear. It reminded Kuroo of the day Suga left, except no one rushed to help Yaku. Coach didn’t even blow his whistle.</p>
<p>Kuroo credited it to the tournament, which was crawling closer like a looming storm. There was no time to stop practice, no time to solve the tensions growing beneath the surface. Between helping Coach decide the starting lineup for the big day and keeping up with advanced classes, Kuroo almost forgot about Suga’s absence. Unfortunately, moments like these loved to pop up and reopen the wound. He disliked Yaku so much, it was hard to look at him.</p>
<p>Yaku dropped onto his knees, searching the wooden gym floor for something.</p>
<p>“We’re in the middle of a practice game,” Daishou complained from Kuroo’s left side.</p>
<p>Kuroo narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what Yaku was looking for. It had to be those ear things. Eventually, Yaku found the one he was looking for, and he slipped it into his ear despite the fact that it probably had gym-floor grime on it.</p>
<p>
  <em> Gross. </em>
</p>
<p>Kuroo bit his lip to suffocate his curiosity. He snuck a look at Tsukki, but he appeared disinterested. Lately, Tsukishima had started to slack off more during volleyball practice. He got even more irritated when Yaku tried to give him uncensored advice. (Heads Up: Telling someone that they suck at volleyball was not a good way to make friends.)</p>
<p>*                       *</p>
<p>Yaku was sitting alone again. He kicked at the chair in front of him and pointedly avoided Kuroo’s stare. Kuroo scowled.</p>
<p>
  <em>Enough of this.</em>
</p>
<p>“Hey, Yaku-san,” Kuroo tapped on Yaku’s slim shoulder. The boy turned slightly in his seat, pushing his lunch away. He had brought meat. Again.</p>
<p>“Can I see those?” Kuroo pointed at Yaku’s ears. He chewed on his bottom lip, considering Kuroo’s request.</p>
<p>“Please? I just want to know what they do.”</p>
<p>“’earing aimds,” Yaku told him. That explains it.</p>
<p>“Hearing aids, huh? So does that mean you can actually hear?” Yaku turned to get out his notebook, probably planning to give him an impatient excuse. Kuroo grabbed his hands to stop him.</p>
<p>“It’s fine. Just let me see ‘em, okay?” Yaku gave in, pulling one of them out of his ear to show Kuroo.</p>
<p>“Hey, what’s that?” Tendou asked. “Pass it over!” Kuroo reached forward and snatched it out of Yaku’s palm. Yaku stood up to try and grab it back, but he was too slow. Kuroo threw it over to Tendou.</p>
<p>“Gross, it’s got earwax on it!” Oikawa exclaimed. Tendou made a face and threw it out the open window. Kuroo’s eyes widened. He wasn’t expecting that.</p>
<p>Turning to face Yaku, Kuroo crossed his fingers for the best reaction. Yaku’s little fists were clenched so tight he was trembling.</p>
<p><em>Not good. </em>Before he could react, Yaku kicked him in the shin.</p>
<p>“Kuroo!” Tsukki cried in alarm. Yaku scooped up his bag and ran out of the classroom, leaving his bento on the desk. Kuroo leaned down to massage his throbbing ankle.</p>
<p>“It’s like he doesn’t know how to communicate without using violence,” Tsukki said with distain. </p>
<p>Yeah, but that’s what made Yaku entertaining.</p>
<p>“Hopefully it doesn’t mess up your playing,” Oikawa added. Kuroo scowled at the floor and nodded his head. He clenched his fists and ignored the pain of his sharp fingernails biting into his skin.                </p>
<p>“Don’t worry. <em> It won’t</em>.”</p>
<p>*                         *</p>
<p>From then on, it was a tumbling spiral of tormenting Yaku, just to see that little spark-that little fire that flickered for a half-second. Kuroo was willing to do anything to get a reaction. </p>
<p>Throwing Yaku’s hearing aids into the trash.</p>
<p>Hiding his school-issued shoes.</p>
<p>Hanging his bag too high for him to reach.</p>
<p>Spraying him with water from the hose.</p>
<p>Purposely making it difficult for him to receive the ball.</p>
<p>Writing mean messages in his notebook.</p>
<p>Eventually, Kuroo was dared by Tendou to pull out Yaku’s hearing aids from behind him. Everyone watched with held breath, waiting to see how he would respond in the middle of class.</p>
<p>Kuroo reached forward, curled his fingers around one, and yanked backwards.</p>
<p>Yaku let out a surprised, pained yelp. Kuroo watched, arms still raised in victory, as red blood dripped down the side of Yaku’s right arm.</p>
<p>“Oh no!” Oikawa exclaimed, bending down to put one of his hands on Yaku’s back. “He’s bleeding. What do we do?” Yaku’s shoulders were hunched over. He didn’t even bother turning around to glare at Kuroo.</p>
<p>“You went too far, man,” Daishou whispered into the silence.</p>
<p>“Kuroo-san, go to the principal’s office this instant,” Takeda-sensei scolded. Kuroo dropped the hearing aid on Yaku’s desk, not daring to look at his face.</p>
<p>“Oikawa-san, you take Yaku-san to the nurse. Everyone else, get back to your seats.”</p>
<p>Kuroo stuck his hands into his pockets, walking as slowly as he could. He didn’t want to see his mother’s disappointed expression or the principal’s crest fallen one. <em> His top student, a total jerk. </em></p>
<p>Instead, he dragged his feet and stared at the clear blue sky out the window. Summer was rolling in. One-third of the school year was almost over. It had really been the worst year of Kuroo’s life. Yaku had ruined everything.</p>
<p>“Kuroo Tetsurou-san?” The assistant called, seeing him. “You’re very late.”</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Kuroo said. It was the only apology he planned to give today.</p>
<p>He entered the office with a lowered head and left with a sharp warning.</p>
<p>“Suspended from practice for a week?!” Daishou repeated loudly. Kuroo started walking faster, hoping that maybe he could just run away from the punishment if he went fast enough.</p>
<p>“Our tournament is coming up,” Tendou added. Somehow he always knew how to push Kuroo’s buttons. Tendou may as well right a book, for all Kuroo cared.</p>
<p>
  <em>Annoying Kuroo Tetsurou: 101!</em>
</p>
<p>“Like I need to be reminded. Takeda-sensei’s such a prick,” Kuroo snapped, scuffing his tennis shoe on the concrete sidewalk.</p>
<p>Daishou laughed, “Yeah-” He abruptly froze in his tracks, not even bothering to finish his sentence.</p>
<p>“Huh?” Kuroo looked up. Yaku was standing in front of them. “What does he want? You’re in our way.”</p>
<p>Yaku didn’t budge. He was so stubborn all the time. The obnoxious notebook was held tightly in his hands.</p>
<p>“I said, get out of the way,” Kuroo growled, stepping forward.</p>
<p>Yaku rushed towards him, holding the notebook up close to Kuroo’s face. He took a step back to he could read it.</p>
<p>
  <em> Sorry.</em>
</p>
<p>It was the very opposite of what Kuroo had grown to expect from Yaku. It just got under his skin so much, he wasn’t sure how to react.</p>
<p>“Sorry? You’re not sorry!” Kuroo shouted. He yanked the notebook from Yaku’s grasp. The back cover ripped as Yaku tried to pull it towards him. “You’re just pathetic!”</p>
<p>Yaku grabbed his arm in an attempt to get the notebook back. Kuroo held it as high above his head as he could.</p>
<p>“Check it out, he wants to hold your hand,” Daishou teased.</p>
<p>“You’re blushing; you like it,” Tendou added. “Rooster head and choppy hair, sitting in a tree-”</p>
<p>“I DON’T!” Kuroo shouted, pulling away. Yaku stumbled backwards. He looked furious, like he was about to attack Kuroo. Then, he took a trained breath, as if he was preparing for this very day. Yaku pointed at Kuroo, then himself, and clasped the hands together. He looked up from the ground and met Kuroo’s eyes, smiling the slightest bit.</p>
<p>It looked sad.</p>
<p>Kuroo scowled at him and threw the notebook into the nearby pond.</p>
<p>Yaku looked at it in alarm. He ran towards it, not even bothering to lash out at Kuroo in frustration. Fine by him. Kuroo put his hands into his pocket and walked forward. He didn’t want to see Yaku’s face again in his life.</p>
<p>“Ew! He’s getting in.”</p>
<p>“That water’s disgusting.”</p>
<p>Kuroo glanced sideways. </p>
<p>Yaku was kneeling over in the knee-height pond, searching through the water with his short arms. Yaku’s head was bowed, so Kuroo couldn’t catch his expression. It couldn’t have been good anyway, based on the fact that he was in mucky lake water.</p>
<p>He was crazy.</p>
<p>What a freak.                           </p>
<p> </p>
<p>*</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. consequences</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kuroo’s actions finally have consequences. Yaku tries to help, but ends up making it worse.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“See you tomorrow,” Tendou said in a low voice. He was grinning, grinning like he did when they messed with Yaku. <em>Meanly. </em>“Kuroo.” </p>
<p>Kuroo looked up, heart thumping in his chest like a drum. Water dripped from his hair and blurred his vision. He watched as Tendou and Daishou turned around, leaving him in the disgusting, mossy lake. His books were soaked, and his backpack floated by his side.</p>
<p>Those people he had considered friends had the…the <em>nerve</em> to push him into the pond. What were they even thinking?! How could they?</p>
<p>How?</p>
<p>How...</p>
<p>*                             *</p>
<p>
  <em> “As you may have noticed,” Their vice-principal started in a weary voice, “Yaku Morisuke-san is absent today.” Kuroo glanced up from doodling on his desk. He had already figured something was wrong this morning, when Takeda-sensei didn’t get mad at him once. The classroom had been too silent. Suspiciously silent. “In the past 6 weeks, 8 of Yaku-san’s hearing aids have gone missing. Yaku-san’s aunt believes he is being bullied at school.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> There was a painstakingly long pause. The guilt in the air made it impossible to breath.</em>
</p>
<p><em> “If any of you have seen Yaku-san being bullied at school, please step forward.” Kuroo could see the edge of Vice-principal’s wig, where the skin met the hair. For some reason, Kuroo just had to find this funny, </em>now<em> of all times. Don’t smirk, don’t smirk, don’t smirk. “If no one does, we’d hate to have to bring your parents into this.” </em></p>
<p><em> Kuroo immediately forgot all about the vice-principal and his fake hair. </em> <em>The school was going to tell their parents?!</em></p>
<p>
  <em>His mom. His wonderful mom, smiling and waving from the back of the salon. His mom, who still supported him even when he got irritable.<br/>
<br/>
His mom, who still thought he was innocent.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Kuroo’s hand started to raise his hand. Maybe if he just confessed, they wouldn’t tell his mom. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Stand up, Kuroo-san,” Takeda-sensei said in a cold voice. Despite it being late spring, the temperature felt like it dropped a few degrees. “We all know it was you.” For the briefest second, there was a pause, a moment that hung in the air above them all. </em>
</p>
<p>’The peak of the graph shows us how high the ball will go before falling…’</p>
<p>
  <em> “I said, ‘STAND UP!’” Takeda-sensei shouted, slamming his fist against the once-guilty chalkboard. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Kuroo jumped to his feet as the class gasped and whispered around him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Alright, Tsukishima-san,” Takeda-sensei said, back to his stone cold voice. His words cut through the classroom, sharp as a knife. “You sit next to him. What did you see?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Tsukki paused, glancing up to look Kuroo in the eyes. “He did tease Yaku-san quite a bit. It was obnoxious.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “What?!” Kuroo exclaimed, betrayed. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Daishou-san?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Yeah, for sure. I kept telling him to cut it out, but Kuroo doesn’t listen.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> “Huh? Tendou and Daishou bullied him too!” Kuroo yelled desperately. He could feel everyone watching him, waiting for the fall of the popular Kuroo-san. “And people talked behind his back! Especially Tsukki and Oikawa!” </em>
</p>
<p><em> “Mean,” Came a wobbly voice from the seat in front of him. “How mean,” Oikawa repeated, as all the attention was pulled towards him. He sniffled a little. “I’d </em> never <em> do such a thing.” </em></p>
<p>
  <em> Now everyone really was against him. People loved Oikawa, so by calling him out, Kuroo had just become the evil bully who had been hiding in plain sight behind his bedhead. His classmates turned to glare at him. Even Tendou and Daishou were looking at him with furious eyes. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Angry eyes. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> He couldn’t meet their stares. It hurt too much.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>*                   *</em>
</p>
<p>Kuroo stood up. Water slid down his legs and back into the awful pond. Well, at least he wouldn’t be hot on the way home.</p>
<p>Heh.</p>
<p>Not funny, Kuroo.</p>
<p>He moved to pick up his school bag and books.  The water was so murky it was hard to tell what he was grabbing at under it. Kuroo’s hand found something that seemed like it had a paper-y texture. He brought it up to his face.</p>
<p>
  <em>For Conversations.</em>
</p>
<p>Yaku’s notebook. Great. Just the reminder Kuroo needed! He tucked it under his arm and quickly found his other books. The scorching sun beat down on him as he walked home. Maybe if he got lucky, he’d dry off on the way and his mom wouldn’t know a thing.</p>
<p>Yeah, that was too hopeful.</p>
<p>He got out the notebook to distract himself from the inevitable. (Which seemed to be a bad habit as of lately.)</p>
<p>Kuroo flipped it open to a page in the middle. On the edges were notes about different kouhai’s favorite things, angry scribbles in black pen and, it looked like, some math work. He found himself surprisingly disappointed that there was hardly evidence of conversations with anyone. He turned backwards a little. Oh! There was Sugawara-san’s messy handwriting. And some drawings of hands? They weren’t very good. Kuroo went even farther back. Ah, there was Oikawa’s original question. That had seemed so long ago.</p>
<p>Kuroo turned some of the soggy pages, trying to find his own handwriting. Here were some things he recognized.</p>
<p>
  <em> I can’t hear you. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Idiot. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Quit the volleyball team. </em>
</p>
<p>Kuroo shut the notebook, stomach sinking at the brutal reminder.</p>
<p>
  <em>”You’re an incredible player, kid, but we can’t allow people to think this is okay. I’m so sorry, Kuroo, but you’re off for the rest of the year.”</em>
</p>
<p>He was never going to be on Nekoma’s volleyball team again.</p>
<p>The one thing he had worked so hard for. The most important thing.</p>
<p>Kuroo walked across the sidewalk to the salon, still gripping the notebook. He didn’t bother looking both ways. (What’s the point? No one at school would miss him.)</p>
<p>He kicked off his wet tennis shoes and started making his way up the stairs, ready to hide in his room for the rest of the day and play video games until his hands ached. Kuroo heard the static of the phone, but he wasn’t about to wait around just to eavesdrop.</p>
<p>“Yes. Yes. I’m so sorry for all the trouble he’s caused. Yes. Thank you.”</p>
<p>Kuroo was just about to reach the top of the stairs.</p>
<p>“Tetsurou,” his mom said in a stern voice. Kuroo froze and tightened his grip on Yaku’s notebook. “I just got off the phone with the school. They told me you’ve been causing trouble in…Hang on, why are you so wet?”</p>
<p>Kuroo couldn’t even look her in the eyes. He opted to stare at the polished wooden stair in front of him instead. “I jumped in the river with Tendou like always, okay?”</p>
<p>“Don’t take that tone with me, mister! Tetsurou, have you been causing issues at school? You tell me right now!”</p>
<p>Something just snapped inside of him. “Yes! Okay!” Kuroo shouted, turning around to look at her. His breath caught in his throat as the anger evaporated.</p>
<p>Her eyes were filled with tears.</p>
<p>When his mom finally spoke, her voice was trembling. “Go get cleaned up and tell Shouyou to put his shoes on. We’re going to Yaku-san’s place right now.”</p>
<p>*                        *</p>
<p>Kuroo watched his mom bow over and over to Yaku-san’s mom, holding out the stack of yen she had gotten a few minutes ago at the bank.</p>
<p>Yaku’s mother sure didn’t look like him. While Yaku was short and blonde, this woman was lanky and had long black hair. The only similar thing between them were their cat-like brown eyes.</p>
<p>“What’s going on Tetsurou nii-chan?” Shouyou asked in a curious voice.</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t understand,” Kuroo growled. “You’re just a 2nd year.” Shouyou made a noise of protest.</p>
<p>Tetsurou watched with a narrow gaze as his mom started waving at him. Yaku’s mother grabbed her hand and pointed away towards the park.</p>
<p>“Tetsu, why was Mommy giving all that woman all that money? What’s she buying?”</p>
<p>Kuroo stomach twisted unpleasantly. “Forgiveness.”</p>
<p>He unbuckled his seat belt, suddenly feeling the need for fresh air.</p>
<p>“What are you doing? Mommy said not to get out of the car!” Shouyou whined.</p>
<p>“Grow up,” Kuroo mumbled grumpily, opening the car door. He stepped out of it.</p>
<p>“Tetsurou nii-chan!”</p>
<p>Kuroo ran away from their silver van. He ducked under an overhang to escape the tattle-tell eyes of brother. The loud, but faithfully constant sound of a pattering waterfall echoed against the concrete wall.<br/>
<br/>
Kuroo let out a breath, guilt still tingling in his gut. Finally, he could relax a little. He turned to look around the little haven.</p>
<p>“Gah!”</p>
<p>Yaku.</p>
<p>Yaku sitting there, feeding the birds.</p>
<p>He was so eerily quiet, so unusually calm. Then again, it had already been established that Yaku was weird. Kuroo wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Yaku with <em> that </em> look before, though.</p>
<p>He decided to sneak around behind him. Thank goodness Yaku couldn’t hear Kuroo. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with the shame. He tip-toed towards the other side of the cavern. Suddenly, his tennis shoe slipped on a wet tile, and he stumbled forward. The sound echoed around the area. Gray pigeons flew past Kuroo in a flurry of feathers. He froze, caught in the act, even through he shouldn’t have been guilty in the 1st place.</p>
<p>Yaku turned slowly to meet his eyes. They stared at each other for a second. Just them and the pattering of the waterfall.</p>
<p>Kuroo gulped, turning away. Of all the gazes he had been avoiding today, Yaku’s eyes were the most intense.</p>
<p>He ran away as fast as he could. Eventually, he found another bench farther down into the park, surrounded by green leaves and muffling branches. Kuroo didn’t know how long he sat there, knees drawn up to his chin as the cold slowly creeped into his bones. The sun had set by the time his mom’s shoes could be heard crunching down the gravel path.</p>
<p>This had been the longest day ever.</p>
<p>“Tetsurou,” her voice was soft. He didn’t want to see her expression, so he trained his eyes on her brown slip-ons. “What happened to my shy baby boy?” The way she said it forced Kuroo to look up. He couldn’t help the way his mouth dropped open.</p>
<p>Blood dripped from his mom’s ear- more specifically from the place where her earring should have been. There were red flecks on her cheek, and it stained the pink on her shirt. Her face softened at Kuroo’s expression. She tilted her head a little and said, in the tone of someone who had miles of endurance, “You’re going to be good from now on, okay?”</p>
<p>Kuroo couldn’t do anything but stare on in horror.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Forgiven for free.</p>
<p>*                       *</p>
<p>School was torture. He wasn’t allowed to go near the boy’s gym in the afternoons anymore. Kuroo figured it was better that way though. The first time he tried to sneak a peek at how his team was doing (he cared about all of them after all), Daishou had thrown a volleyball at Kuroo’s face and then reported him to Coach Noai.</p>
<p>His grades slipped as he lost the motivation to study. Kuroo couldn’t rely on his head alone when he spent all of class watching green leaves shake in the wind and the train rattle past the window.</p>
<p>His shoes went missing along with his friends. One day, Kuroo’s white school-issued ones weren’t in the cubby. It was humiliating to wear green slippers to class, so he searched and searched until it seemed they’d disappeared in thin air.</p>
<p>Kuroo found them later in the garbage. </p>
<p>He endured countless glares from Oikawa. Tsukki didn’t even talk to him anymore. He pretended not to know Yaku.</p>
<p>He found staring people in the eye was harder. It was obvious what they were thinking when they looked at him. <em> Bully, Kuroo Tetsurou is a bully</em>. His desk started getting vandalized with chalk.</p>
<p>
  <em> Go away. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> You’re a terrible person. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Leave the school. </em>
</p>
<p>People he had considered friends-Daishou and Tendou-jumped him on the way home. He was left with scattered books, bruises and a hollow feeling in his gut. Kuroo just laid on the burning concrete sidewalk, arms out, staring up at the cloudless blue sky.</p>
<p>A bruise for every cruel jab.</p>
<p>Would he have said them if he knew he would end up like this? Friendless and sad all the time?<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> He deserved it. </em>
</p>
<p>*                   *</p>
<p>Kuroo’s shoes-his school ones-went missing again. The issued green slippers were just as terrible as always. Maybe when he got older, he would invent a pair meant for kids like him and Yaku. Shoe deprived kids.</p>
<p>Heh. </p>
<p>Imagine him doing something for Yaku.</p>
<p>Kuroo slid open the classroom door with slumped shoulders. Last time his shoes went missing, he found them in the trash can. Hopefully, no one had taken them out yet.</p>
<p>Orange light flooded his vision, and he saw the silhouette of someone. </p>
<p>It was Yaku, bending over his desk.</p>
<p>“What’s he doing?” Kuroo whispered. He stormed forward, forgetting about his shoes completely. Kuroo clenched his fist and shoved Yaku’s shoulder with his other hand, pushing him out of the way. “Hey! What are you-“</p>
<p>His desk was clean.</p>
<p>Kuroo felt like his clothes had been ripped off. He was exposed…cold. It was as if his pride had been ripped into a thousand bits. <em>In front of his eyes.</em></p>
<p>It was embarrassing. </p>
<p>Yaku knew about the messages and the cruel jokes? The only person more pathetic than him knew?</p>
<p>Anger surged into his chest, and he lashed out, grabbing Yaku’s wrist. “Don’t you dare touch my stuff, you freak.” Yaku frowned at first. Then he tilted his head slightly, moving his wrist to show Kuroo the cloth in his hand. As if Kuroo didn’t already understand what the boy had been doing. He smiled with empathy. </p>
<p>Don’t.</p>
<p>Please don’t.</p>
<p>Kuroo’s mouth parted slightly. He felt sad all over, like he wanted to cry, but couldn’t.</p>
<p>The playground feeling.</p>
<p>“There’s that look again,” Kuroo said. “Why aren’t you angry?” He released Yaku’s wrist and pushed him backwards against the table. He suspected 4 more seconds until Yaku got angry. His temper was as short as him, after all. </p>
<p>Yaku stared at him with wide brown eyes. </p>
<p>It’s like he knew Kuroo was miserable.</p>
<p>He knew somehow.</p>
<p>“What? If you want to say something, spit it out!” Kuroo walked forward, wrapping his hand around Yaku’s shoulder. “All you’re doing is staring with that stupid face! Our team is losing because of you! Come on, show me that volcano anger.” All the frustration, confusion, sadness and gut-wrenching loneliness was ripping him apart. He shook Yaku as hard as he could. It was just easier to blame it all on him. “Stop trying to be a saint!” </p>
<p>Yaku turned his head and bit Kuroo’s hand.</p>
<p>“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Kuroo screamed. His hand throbbed painfully, but he didn’t withdraw it. “I can’t believe you did that! A new low for you!” He tried grabbing Yaku’s wrist, but the boy was swatting him with the rag. Kuroo pushed the shoulder he had a grip on, and Yaku toppled backwards onto the desk.</p>
<p>Yaku started to kick Kuroo’s stomach in an attempt to ward off his punches. He successfully landed one, and Kuroo stuck his arm out, trying to push Yaku’s head away. “Gah!”</p>
<p>Kuroo frantically grasped Yaku’s forearm to keep him from smacking him with the cleaning cloth. He tried to use his weight to his advantage, but Yaku had the strength of his legs <em> and </em> his arms to bat him away. It was a mess of uncoordinated kicks and flailing arms until Yaku landed a hit on Kuroo’s chin. Kuroo slid sideways on the polished wooden floor. He internally cursed the darn green slippers. Yaku pushed him all the way over, and he toppled onto the ground in between two desks.</p>
<p>Apparently, Yaku wasn’t done. Kuroo had never seen him so angry, never seriously, fiery-core angry, until now.</p>
<p>It was scary.</p>
<p>Yaku sat on Kuroo’s chest and started shaking him by the shirt. Kuroo reached up to try and push him off by the shoulder, but Yaku was hitting him and trembling so much it was hard to get a good grip. “M’m heping you!” He screamed hoarsely.</p>
<p>“What? Get off me!” Kuroo tried to sit up, using his elbows as support, but Yaku pushed his head down with a quivering arm. “I can’t understand what you’re saying?!”</p>
<p>“M’m doin’ the bmest I camn!” Yaku’s entire form was burning. The light was orange behind him, and shadows elongated his features. He was quivering in anger. Even though both of them were exhausted, Yaku still punched him half-heartedly. They both struggled to breath, the aftertaste of fury still bitter on their tongues. </p>
<p>Kuroo watched as the setting sun’s light reflected off Yaku’s hearing aids.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Listen.</p>
<p>*                                             </p>
<p>Summer came and left, taking Yaku with it.              </p>
<p>He left so quickly and quietly, it seemed unreal. It was as if it didn’t bother anybody, which confused Kuroo.</p>
<p>He had wanted Yaku to leave the school ever since the 1st day of volleyball practice, but now that he was gone, it didn’t feel as good as Kuroo thought it would. Maybe his brain had gotten mixed up during their fight. </p>
<p>Life kept going without Yaku, and Kuroo was left to clean his own desk of chalk messages.</p>
<p>The volleyball team (because he couldn’t call it his own anymore, could he?) lost in their first match of the tournament. </p>
<p>Whispers chased him in the halls. Shouts mocked his back on the way home. He had no friends, just cruel words that were given to him in dozens. You know, because it’s fine to be mean to a bully. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It became too hard to hear, so Kuroo stopped listening. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I finally figured out how to show that the fic is updated! Better late than never, right? On another note, thank you so, so much to everyone for your support and for reading to this point! I really appreciate it!!!<br/>*        *<br/>Please stay safe and let someone know if you are being bullied in real life! There are people that can and will help you!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. srt</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A 3rd year student in High School now, Kuroo is friendless and unhappy. His visit to see Yaku goes better than expected. The next day, his mom has a few things to say to him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!!<br/>**<br/>I know that the warning comes before every chapter, but it’s especially important for this one! This chapter does include referenced suicide! <em>Please, please, please don’t read if that bothers or inspires uncomfortable emotions!!!!</em></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kuroo walked through the doors of the rec center, fingers curled around a very special notebook. He traveled up the stairs to where the Sign Language Circle met. Usually (as in, according to the website), they got together on Tuesdays, but he wasn’t here for the club.</p><p>Kuroo took a shaky breath and slid open the door. No one was there.</p><p>Of course he missed it. Another failure-</p><p>“Yaku-san!” A loud voice said from down the hall. “I’ve been practicing like you told me to! Shibayama helped me!”</p><p>“It’s nice to see you,” An equally enthusiastic (though less annoying) voice agreed. Kuroo’s heart started thumping so fast he was pretty sure it wasn’t healthy. He slowly twisted around to face the hallway.</p><p>There he was.</p><p>Yaku.</p><p>It was almost the same as in Elementary School. He walked by without noticing Kuroo at all.</p><p><em>Do it before you chicken out. It’s haunted you forever. Do it! </em>“Yaku-san,” Kuroo shouted. </p><p>He put his hand on Yaku’s shoulder and gently turned him the slightest bit.</p><p>Yaku’s brown eyes widened at the sight of him. He looked way smaller than in elementary school, where they had been the same height. His hair was the same shade of honey blonde, but it was curlier and shorter. </p><p>Years later, Yaku still had freckles.</p><p>“Um, hi,” Kuroo mumbled. <em> Don’t falter, just remember why you’re here.</em> “I’m-I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. From Elementary School.”</p><p>Yaku’s face quickly molded into one of surprise. His expression flashed to one of anger in seconds. He attempted to tame it by forcing the corners of his mouth up, but it failed. In frustration, he spun around and ran down the stairs.</p><p>“Huh?” Kuroo’s heart sank. Of course he didn’t want to see him; he wasn’t surprised. “Wait!” Kuroo sprinted after Yaku. When he entered the main area of the next floor, Yaku was nowhere to be found. He moved to peer around the hall. Yaku was squatting down, with his eyes closed and one hand on the iron railing.</p><p>“There you are!” Kuroo said, putting his free hand on the railing. Sensing the vibration, Yaku opened his eyes. He scrambled to stand up, trying to pretend he hadn’t been on the ground. That had hardly changed.</p><p>Yaku definitely looked shorter though.</p><p>As if sensing Kuroo’s thoughts, he glared at him warily.</p><p>It snapped Kuroo back into reality. Now was not the time to stare at Yaku’s face. “Here,” He said, sticking out the notebook he had found all those years ago in the pond. Even though he wished he could give it to Yaku in good shape, it was basically impossible after all the abuse it had been through. “You forgot this,” Kuroo brought his free hand up to his head in a fist. Then he moved it away, spreading the fingers out.</p><p>Yaku’s entire demeanor changed. He started moving his hands so fast Kuroo almost didn’t catch it. Luckily, he saw Yaku moving his pointer fingers in a circle around each other- the symbol for Sign Language.</p><p>“How do I know Sign?” Kuroo guessed. He did the sign for <em> learn</em>. It consisted of bringing his fingers towards his forehead, like he was bringing the knowledge into his mind. “I learned it. From a class.”</p><p>Real smooth, Kuroo.</p><p>He awkwardly shook the notebook, and Yaku took the cue and grabbed it.</p><p>Now that that was over, Kuroo found his gaze wandering down to Yaku’s feet to avoid his piercing eyes. He was wearing white tennis shoes. What? Everyone knows white shoes just get ruined when dirt gets on them. Kuroo had figured Yaku was smarter than that. Then again, he didn’t really <em>know</em> Yaku.</p><p>Even if he wanted to.</p><p>“Yaku-san!” Kuroo said impulsively. “I’ve been wondering…if well…” He pointed at himself, “If me,” and then at Yaku, “and you…if we could be friends?” He clasped the hands together, shaking them up and down.</p><p>Kuroo gathered the nerve to look up. Yaku had raised the notebook so it covered his mouth, and his eyes were round and glassy.</p><p>Kuroo turned around and smacked his cheek in embarrassment. What was he thinking?! He was such an idiot! “That’s what you were asking, in Elementary School. I finally understand, and I…” He peered around to look at Yaku’s face.</p><p>Yaku was trying to glower at him. His tiny eyebrows were pointed down, but unshed tears swam in his eyes.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Kuroo said. “Please don’t cry! I-I’ll leave. Just,” He desperately signed ‘don’t cry.’</p><p>“M’m not!” Yaku shouted, surprising Kuroo so much he took a step backwards. Yaku pulled the notebook from his chest to look at the cover. He took a deep breath, looking at Kuroo contemplatively.  Kuroo did nothing, though part of him had the impulsive urge to wink.</p><p><em> No. </em>No way. That would be a terrible idea. As awful as all of his ideas were.</p><p>Eventually, Yaku tucked the notebook under his right arm. He pulled some bread out of his school. <em> Help me feed the fish, </em>He signed slowly, giving Kuroo a patronizing smirk. Kuroo frowned at him, but he was slowly relaxing.</p><p>“I can understand when you Sign fast too, you know,” He muttered, but Yaku had already turned around and was putting the notebook away.</p><p>Kuroo guessed that was for the best.</p><p>This whole situation felt like walking into a land mine blindfolded.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <em>Friends?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There’s no way!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That we could be...what you call...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Friends...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Tetsu nii-chan! Wake up!”</p><p>Kuroo opened his eyes blearily. His body ached from sleeping on the floor with just a blanket. Ugh. He really wasn’t thinking when he sold his futon. Kuroo rolled off his stomach (the most comfortable position to sleep in) and onto his back. There was really no use getting up today. No reason to go to school. Would his teacher even call his name?</p><p>He should just go back to sleep.</p><p>“NII-CHAN! Wake up!” Shou’s voice screamed from downstairs.</p><p>“Alright, Tetsurou, up and at ‘em,” His mom agreed. The smell of bacon wafted up to his room. Involuntarily, his legs stumbled up, and he wandered towards the source of the food.</p><p>“’Morning, shrimpy,” Kuroo reached forward to ruffle his brother’s bright orange hair. </p><p>“Hey, don’t call me that!” Shouyou complained, trying and failing to swat Kuroo’s hands away. “And stop trying to make my hair look like yours!”</p><p>“Is that such a bad thing?” Kuroo joked, walking toward the kitchen and zeroing in on the food.</p><p>“Yes, it is! Rooster Head!”</p><p>His mom laughed from the kitchen table. “Sometimes I feel as though I failed as a hairdresser when I see my own son’s bedhead. Speaking of which,” She flipped over a piece of bacon, “have you been using that shampoo I recommended? Shou-chan’s been using it and look how fluffy his hair is!”</p><p>“Yeah! Every morning it’s like <em> fwah!</em>” Shouyou pulled his chair back and sat next to Kuroo. “I think there’s some left over. I’m not sure though ‘cause yesterday I spilled it in the shower, so the bottle’s half full. But it’s fine, nii-chan, there was still some in the container.”</p><p>“Um, yeah, I’ve tried it,” Kuroo lied. To be honest, he hadn’t even thought of using it. What was the point of brushing his hair, or washing it with some high-tech shampoo, when everyone already saw him as a monster? Might as well have hair to match.</p><p>His mom sent him a beaming smile. “I’m glad. I’d better see improvement soon.” She took his plate and put a fried egg on it. “Eggs this morning, to jump start both my boy’s days! You two have been working so hard at school and work. I’m very proud.” Kuroo looked down at the delicious egg in suspicion.</p><p>“Uh, why so cheery this morning, Mom?” Kuroo asked.</p><p>He pressed his hands together and mumbled, “Thank you for this food.” Shouyou didn’t even stop to do it before eating. He caught Kuroo staring at him judgmentally.</p><p>“What? Mom can’t be happy once in a while?” Shouyou said with mock offense, egg half way toward his face. He had completely missed the point of Kuroo’s glare. And <em> of course </em> he automatically started an  argument. </p><p>“Look, I never said that-”</p><p>“Tetsu, you’re so observant!” His mom interrupted before it could turn into a bickering match. “I <em>am</em> in a good mood today!” Oh no. She pulled out a cream colored envelope from under the table. On it, in messy Japanese characters, was ‘the money I owe you.’ Her smile was so wide, Kuroo suddenly felt like sleeping on the floor for another week wouldn’t be so bad. “I found on my bedside table this morning!”</p><p>“Eh? Money?” Shouyou didn’t sound impressed at all. Kuroo suddenly felt very irritated with his brother.</p><p>“Don’t talk with your mouth full. And yes! It’s money,” His mom pulled the envelope closer to her apron. </p><p>“Money I worked hard for, shrimpy,” Kuroo muttered under his breath.</p><p>“Hey!” Shou protested. “I just don’t understand why it’s a big deal. Why not buy mom a volleyball or something?” Ugh. Shouyou had been on a volleyball kick since he joined the elementary school team in 2nd year. By now, Kuroo was pretty sure his brain could only think about the obnoxious sport.</p><p>“It's fine, Shou-chan. You’ll understand when you’re older.”</p><p>“Yeah, but how much older, Mom? Like when I graduate Junior High? Or when I start High School?”</p><p>“Those happen at the same time,” Kuroo grumbled.</p><p>“Oh! So, like, when I go travel around the world then?”</p><p>“No, when you pass Math class.”</p><p>“Comb Head!”</p><p>“Chibi-chan!”</p><p>“I’ll grow, you know!”</p><p>“Enough!” His mom yelled over them, putting out the metaphorical fire before it could escalate out of control. Comfortable silence settled over the table. Cars could be heard driving by and eggs sizzled on the little stove in the middle of the table. Their kitchen was small and crowded, just like everything else in their house, but it held a sense of home that couldn’t be found anywhere else. </p><p>Just as the silence was getting too comfortable, his mom broke it. “So...why did you try to kill yourself, Tetsu?”</p><p>Kuroo gulped. He should have seen it coming, but knowing wouldn’t have made telling her any easier. There were no words that summarized how bad he felt sometimes, no explanation that could explain the guilt that weighed him down like there was a bolder in his stomach. “I just…didn’t have much to live for.” At least that was true. He had no friends and no dreams.</p><p>But Yaku had given him a chance.</p><p>So he stayed.</p><p>“I knew it!” His mom screamed, pulling Kuroo back into the present. She flew out of her seat and leaned forward to slam her hands onto the table. “I knew something was wrong! Don’t even try to deny it!” Her voice cracked a little at the end.</p><p>“Wait, what?” Shouyou wailed. “N-Nii-chan!” He looked horrified and frightened. Kuroo never wanted to see that expression on his face again.</p><p>Meanwhile, his mom was listing all the things he had done that were even slightly off. “You sold your chemistry poster, your room is clean for a change, you quit your job, and you’ve even failed 2 of your tests!” Tears were bubbling in her eyes. “Everything after today’s been ripped off your calendar! I can’t, it’s-it’s <em> so </em> morbid!” She threw the spatula down into the table and rummaged in the kitchen drawers. When his mom turned around, there was a lighter in her hand.</p><p>“Promise me you won’t pull a stunt like this again, or I’m torching this! Your 1.9 million yen will go to waste!” She held the envelope by the side of her face and clicked the lighter on. Her brown hair shook with zeal. Kuroo’s gaze went directly to her ear. The scar was still there from where Yaku’s mom had pulled her earring out.</p><p>
  <em>The reminder of unconditional forgiveness.</em>
</p><p>“Are you even listening to me?!” Kuroo snapped out of it.</p><p>“Mommy, don’t-”</p><p>“Stay out of this, Shou-chan!”</p><p>A frustrated smirk grew on Kuroo’s face. “Mom, listen to yourself. You’re not-”</p><p>“I am serious!” She screamed, shaking the envelope to emphasize her point.</p><p>“Wait, no! Mom, don’t do anything crazy,” he started slowly standing up and pushing in his chair, trying to make his way toward her.</p><p>“CRAZY?! You were gonna <em>off</em> <em>yourself</em>!” Her golden brown eyes held a wild look. “Promise me you won’t do it again!”</p><p>“Whoa! Mom, I-I promise I won’t do it! Just don’t burn it!” Kuroo begged, getting down to the ground. Beside him, Shouyou was panicking and looking between them wildly.</p><p>“Promise what? Be specific!” She pestered, calming down a little.</p><p>“I promise I won’t try to kill myself! I promise! It was my worst idea yet! I promise, Mom!” Kuroo pressed his forehead into the worn wooden floor.</p><p>“Really?” She sniffed. “You mean it?” Kuroo nodded desperately. Her face melted into a relieved smile. “Okay! Then I won’t burn this!”</p><p>Shouyou, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for the past second, started shouting. “Mom! Fire!” Kuroo looked up in alarm. The envelope was flaming. His mom flinched and dropped in onto the stove. Kuroo jumped up and tried to pull it out.</p><p>“Ow!” There was another less-than-smart idea to add to his growing list.</p><p>“Fire! Fire!” Shouyou screamed uselessly, pointing at the burning yen. Kuroo, who had once prided himself on his quick thinking skills, pulled his shirt off and started batting out the fire. “Ah, it’s smoky,” Shouyou whined.</p><p><em> Beep, Beep, Beep! </em> There goes the fire alarm.</p><p>“Mom, open the window!” Kuroo yelled over the sound of the buzzing. “Shou, that’s it for breakfast.” He frowned down at the ashy mess of his hard earned money. Life loved to deal him the terrible cards.</p><p>“I’m still hungry,” Shouyou joked weakly when their Mom left to go open the living room windows. He leaned in toward Kuroo. “Nii-chan, please don’t leave me. You can talk to me whenever you want! We can even talk about the sad stuff, okay?”</p><p>“Yep,” Kuroo forced a nod. “You’re a bit too annoying for me to take you up on the offer, though.” Shouyou wilted.</p><p>Great. He messed up his brother’s good-intentioned offer to help. “Uh…”</p><p>“I’m going to go get ready for school,” Shouyou exclaimed, sprinting up the narrow stairs.</p><p>Darn it. Kuroo followed him, sliding the curtain closed between their two ‘rooms.’ His eyes wandered to his calendar, lying torn on the floor. Time to add some more days. Finding a pen and paper, Kuroo messily mimicked the rest of April and tapped it to his calendar.</p><p>“Tetsurou, we have to leave soon!” Shouyou called through the blue sheet. Oh. He was calling him Tetsurou now. Not nii-chan. Not Tetsu. Not even onii-chan. </p><p>“I’m ready,” Kuroo lied to silence him, ducking to look under his desk. Where was his blazer?</p><p>“No, you’re not! I see your uniform right here,” Shouyou retorted, sounding smug.</p><p>“What?” Kuroo threw the curtain to the side. “Why didn’t you tell-”</p><p>“Ahh! I don’t have a shirt on!”</p><p>“Gah!” Kuroo shut his eyes. “Just-just give me my uniform.” He stretched out his hand awkwardly. The feeling of cold clothes in his palm prompted him to turn around blindly.</p><p>“Watch the desk!”</p><p>“Ouch!”</p><p>5 minutes later, they were out the door and on the way to school bikes. “Look both ways!” Their mom called after them.</p><p>“She’s talking about you, nii-chan,” Shouyou teased. Kuroo glanced over and met his brother’s brown eyes.</p><p>It was Shou’s way of telling him that he wasn’t mad.</p><p>After several frighteningly busy roads, two muddy backways and a stop to make sure Shouyou had remembered his lunch, they made it to where they parted ways.</p><p>“Have a good day!”</p><p>“Yeah,” Kuroo half-hearted waved back at Shou. A good day? What a joke.</p><p>Yesterday, Kuroo had been planning to end it all. He had only gone to visit Yaku to wrap up any loose ends. Visiting the boy who haunted his dreams- it was supposed to have been the greatest test of courage.</p><p>Supposed to have been. Instead, Kuroo found himself wanting to visit Yaku again, to learn all about the boy he barely knew. Yaku had been warry when they started feeding the fish together. He mostly ignored Kuroo, just sneaking glances at him when he thought Kuroo wasn’t looking. He had warmed up a bit by the end, though.</p><p>Yaku still had problematic taste. (Who brings wheat bread for the fish?) Still, Kuroo couldn’t erase the guilt he felt whenever he looked at Yaku and his hearing aids.</p><p>He couldn’t tell if Yaku actually wanted to be friends with him, or if he was just being polite. Plus, Kuroo still regretted flat-out asking him to be his friend. He was never that awkward in elementary school. </p><p>Then again, a lot had changed since fateful 6th year. Daishou had told everyone about how Kuroo Tetsurou was a sharp-tongued bully. He had lost all the potential friends he could have made that year.</p><p>Kuroo slid off the side of his bike and parked it on the ramp. He trained his gaze down and tactfully avoided other student’s white uniform shoes. Listening to other students yell and talk to each other was really nerve wracking. Surely at least half of them were talking about him.</p><p>
  <em> Stay away from Kuroo.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s a terrible person. </em>
</p><p>Relax. He could handle this.</p><p>But everyone was watching him.</p><p>They all knew.</p><p>Kuroo shut his eyes to block out their stares and ignored all the voices around him. Silent bliss, for just a moment.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>He was just <em>so</em> tired. <br/><br/>*</p><p>                                                                                            </p><p>       </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>                                                                                     </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. flse</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A familiar face talks to Kuroo. Lies are told for Yaku’s sake.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Alright, class, have this translated by next Thursday. Don’t forget to practice for our quiz next week.”</p><p>Kuroo sighed in relief as the teacher left the room and bent over to grab his bento. If he remembered correctly, his mom had made it with grilled fish. Thank goodness. Most days, his mom’s cooking was the only thing that got him through the slow school days.</p><p>“Hey, Kuro-chan.”</p><p>Kuroo glanced up and saw his reflection in Oikawa’s glasses.</p><p>“Oikawa-san.” What a surprise.</p><p>“Have you turned in your English book yet?”</p><p>“Uh, no,” Kuroo’s eyes wandered down to where Oikawa gripped his own messily wrapped bento box. It was better than staring at those perfect brown eyes and being reminded of all the things he couldn’t forget.</p><p>“Make sure to give it to Irihata-sensei, okay?” Oikawa smiled slightly. Perfect Oikawa. Captain of Fukurodani’s volleyball team and fan favorite of class 3-5. He hadn’t been tainted by elementary school at all.</p><p>“Sure.” Kuroo looked down at his own hands.</p><p>Then again, according to Oikawa, he had no involvement in anything even remotely close to bullying Yaku.</p><p>“Alright. Enjoy your lunch!”</p><p>Kuroo watched with trained eyes as Oikawa walked over to his pink-haired friend. Oikawa’s gaze flickered back to him. He started whispering to his friend. <em> ‘Kuro-chan never talks to anyone. It’s concerning.’ </em></p><p>The other boy was staring at him too. <em> ‘He doesn’t have any friends. Everyone knows.’ </em></p><p>Kuroo tore his eyes away, trying to find something else to be distracted by. There! Those loud guys in the back. One of them caught Kuroo looking at him for a second.</p><p>
  <em> ‘Look, Kuroo’s staring at us again.’ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ‘Must be boring being alone all the time.’ </em>
</p><p>And the girls pointing in his direction-</p><p>
  <em> ‘A total freak.’ </em>
</p><p>
  <em> ‘Why does he bother living?’ </em>
</p><p>Kuroo suddenly felt like the air in the room had gotten suffocating. He grabbed his bento box and rushed out of the room. Even though students were required to eat in their class, he found that he didn’t really care about that right now. Finding a bench facing the soccer field (so it looked like he was part of the P.E. class), he sat down with a huff. Kuroo pulled out his lunch, unwrapped it, and picked up his chopsticks.</p><p>As he took some steadying breaths of sweet spring air, he tried to forget about Oikawa and Tsukki and Daishou and all the things that were said behind his back. If he could just enjoy his lunch for even a minute, brain, that’d be great.</p><p>The sound of chewing caught Kuroo’s attention. He turned to peer above the large bush that separated the 2 benches in this court yard. A tuft of white hair stuck straight up, above the green leaves, defying gravity. Streaks of gray shot through it like salt and pepper.</p><p>He’d definitely seen that hair before. Whoever owned the crazy hairstyle turned to look at Kuroo. He flinched and focused his gaze intently on the rice in his lunch.</p><p>Whatever. He had just spent too much time in his mom’s salon.</p><p>Should he go see Yaku again?</p><p>Would it be too weird? <em> Yes.</em> After everything he’d done, it would be way too forward. He just really wanted to go see Yaku again. Selfishly. Maybe he needed a reason to see that cute face again. He could go and apologize for making Yaku upset?</p><p>No, Yaku would hate that. And Kuroo was such a mess he’d probably insult him in 24 different ways while trying. Yaku liked honest things, right? Something with logical reasoning behind it. A gift or something.</p><p>A gift? What was he, a 1st year girl?</p><p>Ugh. Frustrated, Kuroo ended up stewing about it all through Science (the only tolerable class) and during his bike ride home. The High School he attended- Fukurodani –was right in the center of the Nerima Ward. That meant he had to bike across busy roads and past bustling shops.</p><p>Being distracted (Had Yaku gotten shorter? Yeah, he had definitely gotten shorter) was not good. Still, Kuroo managed to avoid getting run over and slumped down in the kitchen of his house on schedule. “I’m home!” He shouted to an empty house. Kuroo took out his homework and paused. Did Shouyou have volleyball club today? Maybe their mom went to pick him up. No, Shou bikes, so that wouldn’t make sense.</p><p>Kuroo sighed. Well, guess who wouldn’t be winning brother-of-the-year. It was to be expected. He was an awful person who had even made his own mom cry. No use in trying to be a good brother with a track record like his.</p><p>Kuroo dug into his bag and pulled out his textbook. <em> Shoot.</em> It was the English one. Oikawa was going to be so annoyed. This day just had to get-</p><p>“Heeeeey, Tetsu.”</p><p>“Argh! Mom, you surprised me!” Kuroo twisted around to face her. It came off sharper than he meant it to.</p><p>His mom flinched a little. “Sorry, Buddy. I didn’t hear you come in.” She paused and bit her lip. “I just wanted to apologize for burning all your hard earned money this morning. I didn’t mean to- honestly.”</p><p>Oh, that. Desperate to avoid her eyes, Kuroo looked down at the dirty wood floor. His mom was wearing Mitch-matched socks: one was short and green and the other was tall with pink stripes.</p><p>“You aren’t mad,” She said uncertainly.</p><p>“I’ll earn it back,” Kuroo replied, since it was true, and he didn’t want to have this conversation any longer. He should have anticipated paying her back to fail. Everything he did nowadays was a disaster.</p><p>“I know you will, my hard working boy.” There was a nice, peaceful minute of silence. The only reason Kuroo could tell his mom was still there was because her socks didn’t move from their spot. “Look at me, Tetsu.” Kuroo glanced up, surprised by the tired look in his mother’s amber eyes. “I know you just earned that money so you could kill yourself. So why would I want it?”</p><p>Kuroo frowned. That wasn’t true. He had earned it for her- for her smile, her forgiveness, her unreasonable, limitless love. He had, honestly, been thinking about paying her back during the process.</p><p>“Alright! Who’s hungry!?” She called loudly. The moment vanished.</p><p>“Oh! ME!” Shouyou shouted from up the stairs. His mom laughed, Kuroo went back to doing his homework, and the tension left the room. The uncertain feeling Kuroo felt earlier had vanished by the time he had finished his school work and was seated with a bowl of chazuke in front of him. It was comfort food, and he knew his mom had made it on purpose, as an apology. </p><p>“Thank you for this food!” Kuroo and Shouyou said at the same time, barely clasping their hands together before digging in.</p><p>“Wow, long day?” Their mom raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“I’m moh enry!” Shou said. Kuroo looked away, disgusted by the way he was chewing his rice.</p><p>“Shou, please don’t talk with your mouth full,” She said patiently. Shouyou nodded, practically vibrating in his seat. He held out his bowl for more.</p><p>“What’s with the sudden change of heart, shrimps? Last time we had this you said it was- and I quote –‘tasted like it was made with pond water.’” Kuroo smirked at Shouyou’s indignant expression. He looked down at his newly filled bowl and then at Kuroo, debating whether or not to eat it and prove Kuroo’s point- that he was acting strange. </p><p>“I changed my mind about it,” He eventually grumbled, shoving a vegetable into his mouth.</p><p>“So? How was school?”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>“Mhxiting!”</p><p>“Exciting?” His mom chose to ignore Kuroo’s less than enthusiastic answer.</p><p>“Yeah! My coach explained that all the food we eat turns to muscle. That’s why I’ve got to eat lots- even the stuff I don’t like!”</p><p>“Why? You’ll get fat. It’ll turn into fat cells, and your body will store it for later. Soon, your weight and mass will become larger. Who knows? You may even grow taller. Unlikely though.” Kuroo stopped picking at his empty bowl with his chopsticks and looked up. “What?”</p><p>“Stop confusing me! I can’t tell if it’s a compliment or an insult,” Shou whined.</p><p>“Insult,” Kuroo responded in a flat voice.</p><p>“So honest.”</p><p>Shouyou chatted some more about his grumpy teammate and volleyball. Then he talked about how school was so hard, and that he kept failing (Kuroo couldn’t relate), and that <em> maybe </em> nii-chan could help him study since he was so super-duper smart?</p><p>“Tetsu, Shou, that’s a great idea!” His mom was thrilled by the concept of them bonding.</p><p>“Uh…” Kuroo didn’t think it was possible to teach a kid who had a volleyball for a brain. Still, he didn’t want to deny his brother anything after the embarrassing morning. “What day of the week do you not have practice again?”</p><p>“Nii-chan! I’ve told you 100 times!” Shouyou complained. “We have no morning or afternoon practices on Tuesdays.”</p><p>Tuesdays. Yaku.</p><p>“Oh. I can’t,” he blurted. Real smooth there, Kuroo.</p><p>“Eh? Why not?” His mom asked, brow creasing in concern.</p><p>Oh, right. His mom and brother both thought he was a total loser with no purpose <em> i.e. </em> free on Tuesdays.</p><p>“Erm, a club,” he mumbled, thinking of clasped hands and koi.</p><p>“A club?!” She looked delighted, and Kuroo felt guilty just looking at her smile. </p><p>“Really?” Shou seemed unimpressed. “You wait until the start of your 3rd year to join a club? Conveniently scheduled on the day I don’t have practice?” <em>The nerve of this sassy 14 year old.</em></p><p>“I can still help you on the weekends,” Kuroo said. “Or you could just get smarter.” Shouyou glared at him, puffing out his cheeks in irritation. Why was he even coming up with excuses? It’s not like he was even going to go visit Yaku anyway, since he couldn’t come up with one good excuse to see him. Because you can’t just go up to someone you tormented as a kid and say, ‘Oh, HEY! I just really want to get to know you! Let’s be best friends and talk all the time!’</p><p>“So? Tetsurou? What club is it?” His mom leaned forward, pulling Kuroo back into the conversation.</p><p>“Why does it only meet on Tuesdays?” Shouyou asked over her. “Most clubs meet at least 3 times a week.”</p><p>“Shou-chan! Let Tetsu speak.”</p><p>
  <em> No, keep talking Shouyou. Give your big brother more time to self-destruct.</em>
</p><p><em>“</em>I was just asking, Mom!”</p><p>“It's a volleyball club!” Kuroo yelled out the 1st club that came to mind.</p><p>WHAT? NO! Not true, not true, not true. He didn’t even like volleyball anymore.</p><p>“WHAAAAT?!” Shouyou’s whole demeanor changed. “Nii-chan’s doing volleyball again?! I knew I prayed for the right thing last time we went to the shrine! And I even wrote my wish on an ema!” Shou was bouncing up and down in his seat, kicking the table. “I’m so happy for you, Nii-chan! You’re what got me into volleyball, so I’m extra excited! Plus you’re so tall! I bet you’ll really help your team!”</p><p>No.</p><p>No no no no no.</p><p>He’d only drag the team down if he was actually on it. That’s why he never worked up the courage to join the Junior High one.</p><p>“Yeah,” He mumbled, dazed. “Ca-can I be excused?”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Later that night, Kuroo circled next Tuesday on his makeshift April calendar. 6 more days until he got to visit Yaku. 6 more days to keep up the lie. 6 more days to survive.</p><p>                                                                                             *</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. bke</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kuroo’s finds a reason to visit Yaku. He is rejected from the Sign Language Circle, but winds up making a friend.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!!<br/>***<br/>HEY, HEY, HEY!!!<br/>Bokuto has arrived! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the fateful Tuesday, he still hadn’t gotten a good reason to visit Yaku. Out of desperation, he had come up with a list of possible options.</p>
<ul>
<li> He could lie and say he wanted to join the Sign Language Circle. (It wouldn’t make sense- Yaku would just ask him why he didn’t join the other day. Plus, he’d be around old ladies all the time.) </li>
<li> He could pretend left his homework at the rec center. (The he’d have to sneak into the building to put his bag there. This option was too much work, and he could get arrested.) </li>
<li> He could flatter Yaku until he wasn’t in suspicious light anymore. (But that could be more suspicious- it could go both ways!) </li>
</ul>
<p>He decided the list was a mess and threw it into the trashcan before leaving for school. By the time he had pulled up into the bike ramp, he was running late.</p>
<p>“Hey, let me borrow your bike.” Kuroo glanced up from his intensive study of Fukurodani Academy’s cracked concrete. Luckily, the person was talking to someone else. </p>
<p>“I don’t know, Konoha. Last time-” It was that salt and pepper haired dude. Was the guy’s voice always this loud? Now curious, Kuroo couldn’t tear his eyes away.</p>
<p>“Come on, Bokuto! I need it.”</p>
<p>“For what?”</p>
<p>“I forgot something at home, so I need to borrow your bike to go get it.”</p>
<p>“Why can’t you borrow someone else’s? I don’t want my bike to go missing in the middle of Tokyo again!”</p>
<p>“Just let me use it!” There was an awful clattering noise that echoed against the tall buildings surrounding the courtyard as the silver bike jostled between them. Kuroo took this as his cue to book it out of there.</p>
<p>“Someone help me!” The guy shouted dramatically. Kuroo stared at the ground, embarrassed for him. “Anyone out there!”</p>
<p>“Gah! Just give me the bike.”</p>
<p>“Why won’t- ah! –anyone help me?” Okay, now he was just targeting Kuroo.</p>
<p>“Cause you’re annoying.”</p>
<p>Kuroo felt Spikey Hair’s eyes burning into him.</p>
<p>He couldn’t stand by. That would be an Oikawa move. So, despite his anxiety about doing it, he went and offered to let a total stranger use his bike.</p>
<p>“Really, man?” The dark blonde-haired guy exclaimed. “Thanks! You’re great.”</p>
<p>He was not great. He was a total loser, in fact. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>6 hours later, Kuroo wasn’t surprised. Of course that guy stole it. What should he have expected? Plus, it was a Tuesday. The universe definitely didn’t want him to go visit Yaku.</p>
<p>Kuroo sighed and started walking past crowds of people towards the salon. It was windy today and cars zoomed by, leaving a trail of exhaust behind them. At least the city was clean, devoid of liter despite the manmade skyscrapers that controlled the city sky like hawks. He tried to focus on counting cars or something to distract himself from the anger and frustration that made him want to quit everything. Out of habit, Kuroo’s mind circled back to Yaku.</p>
<p>It was really too bad. He had wanted to see Yaku’s freckled face today. It served as his motivation for surviving school and people and sleeping on the floor.</p>
<p>Speaking of which, Kuroo kinda regretted that he sold his futon. Every day, his bones ached from the unforgiving ground. Maybe it would have worth if all his money didn’t burn. Well, it was just another bad idea.</p>
<p>Of course, now his bike had gone missing, and he hasn’t even sold it. The world just loved to mess with-</p>
<p>Kuroo stopped walking as a flicker of pink fluttered into his vision. “Huh?” He bent down to pick it up, but it flew out of his reach. Kuroo frowned and jumped forward, trying to pin it down. The judgmental gaze of salarymen and mothers came from all directions. By the third try, Kuroo was fed up. He leapt and pounced on it like a cat, letting out a little victory yelp.</p>
<p>“1/2 off fluffy new bread. Stop by today…” Kuroo read out loud. It was a coupon and a message from the world rolled into one. He could buy Yaku bread to feed the fish! It wasn’t too expensive, so Yaku wouldn’t feel flustered, but it was also something with reasoning behind it.</p>
<p>He quickly changed directions, heading towards the bakery across the street.</p>
<p>Perhaps he should give the universe a little more faith.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The boy in front of Kenma was tall. Maybe even 6 feet. No, <em> definitely </em> 6 feet, since the top of his head almost reached the door frame.  He towered over Kenma, guardian of the <em> shuwa </em> circle and Yaku Morisuke, like a troll. On his face was an obnoxious smirk. </p>
<p>“Uh, I’m here to see Yaku Morisuke.” Oh, of course he was. Everyone came here to see Morisuke.</p>
<p>Kenma kept his expression neutral, and his voice flat. He didn’t trust this guy at all. First of all, he had a hairstyle that reminded Kenma of a villain NPC. Second, he held a French Baguette in his arms at such an awkward angle it hit his chin every time he moved. <em> His seemingly inconspicuous murder weapon. </em>Third, he knew Yaku’s first and last name. He was probably a stalker who thought Morisuke was a cute kid or something.</p>
<p>“He’s not here,” Kenma eventually said. The guy shifted nervously and the bread hit his face.</p>
<p>“He’s…right there.” Kenma forced himself not to look backwards to where Morisuke was sitting. <em> Resist, his observation level is weaker than yours! </em> Unfortunately, the guy’s height stat was better than his. If only he was a little taller, then the person wouldn’t be able to see Morisuke over his head.</p>
<p>“He’s not.”</p>
<p>“He is. I see him.”</p>
<p>“That’s not him.”</p>
<p>The stranger’s villain hair fell into his eyes as his smirk dropped away.</p>
<p>
  <em> Stalker’s resolve has been weakened by -5 points! </em>
</p>
<p>“He is. That’s him in the back-”</p>
<p>“Is not.”</p>
<p>“Is too.”</p>
<p>“Is not.”</p>
<p>He opened his mouth to protest, but Kenma interrupted him. “Are you even a friend of his?”</p>
<p>At the word ‘friend,’ the stranger’s whole ‘cool boy act’ deflated. He struggled to respond, gesturing to the bread weakly. “Thought so.” Kenma slid the door into the Sign Language Circle shut.</p>
<p>
  <em> K.O! Stalker eliminated! </em>
</p>
<p>He wandered back to the table where Morisuke was sitting. When he saw Kenma approaching, he looked up and shook his left pointer finger.</p>
<p>“It’s nothing,” Kenma said, signing along with his words. “There was a roach outside.” Morisuke’s eyes widened in disgust. “A really gross one.” At least the lie made sense. Last summer, the rec center had a really bad bug problem. Morisuke and his friend Nishinoya had to spend every afternoon stomping around the halls with a shoe in their hand, ready to attack the creatures. He had tried to convince Kenma to help, but it was too much work for him to willingly volunteer.</p>
<p>Kenma slid his camera off his shoulder and slinked down to sit next to Morisuke. He started to pour some water out for Kenma, who took it gratefully. His motherly behavior could be so annoying, but it had a few perks. Morisuke smiled and went back to reading whatever homework he had brought.</p>
<p>Don’t worry, Morisuke. No creepy NPCs were going to come back from the dead. Kenma had a very high Def level, and he knew exactly what he was defending.</p>
<p> *</p>
<p>Kuroo tore off a chunk of bread moodily. He knew if Shouyou was here, he’d call him a drama queen. His reaction was a fair one though! He spent all this time trying to visit Yaku and had gotten denied <em>by a kid</em>. That small teenager with cat-like eyes had shut him down. The whole time, he had sounded so disinterested, like Kuroo was just another annoying solicitor. He had flat out refused Kuroo’s facts.</p>
<p>Facts which were valid, <em>by the way!</em> He had seen Yaku’s curly blonde head and his slim shoulders. He had been sitting right there!</p>
<p>But no, that blank-faced kid just had to block his entrance. What was he, a gatekeeper? He didn’t have any right to keep people out of the Sign Language Circle. There weren’t any rules that prohibited people from joining in the first place!</p>
<p>He even wasted his money to buy all this chewy bread.</p>
<p>Argh.</p>
<p>Kuroo turned the corner and saw the hair salon’s colorful sign. Someone was walking around under the streetlight.</p>
<p>Wait- he recognized that salt and pepper style.</p>
<p>“Hey, hey, hey! There you are!” The guy started jumping up and down, rattling the bike in one of his hands. “Perfect timing! I found your bike.” Kuroo made his way across the street to meet him. At this point, he was pretty sure that spikey hair was a loud person in general.</p>
<p>“That’s great,” Kuroo said, and he really meant it. He had not looked forward to getting lectured by his mom about being responsible or having to walk all the way to school. “Where’d you find it?” He moved to place his hand on the seat.</p>
<p>“Konoha-san dumped it in a field by his apartment. That guy can be so careless sometimes!”</p>
<p>Kuroo nodded along, although he didn’t really know what he was talking about.</p>
<p>“I felt really bad when I saw you walking home today, so I made it my mission to find it! Luckily, the bike had your address on it…even though I got lost a few times…It was worth it! And I found you too!”</p>
<p>Kuroo blinked, surprised by the genuine kindness. He looked right into the boy’s bright golden eyes, trying to test if he was serious.</p>
<p>“Hey, something wrong?”</p>
<p>“No, uh…I was wondering. What’s your name?”</p>
<p>“What?” The guy roared. “<em>Bokuto Koutarou!” </em>He pouted a little. “I sit behind you.”</p>
<p>Kuroo smiled guiltily. “Right. I knew that.” He held out the baguette. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou. You want some bread?”</p>
<p>He didn’t deserve friends, but maybe he could make this work. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Being friends with Bokuto Koutarou was chaotic. Bokuto was loud and extroverted. He wasn’t even slightly fazed by Kuroo’s awkwardness. He was also a really great person, despite being kind of dumb. When Kuroo asked him how he was put into class 3-5 (college prep) Bokuto said the school had made a mistake, and he didn’t say anything because he had wanted to see if anyone noticed. (No one had.)</p>
<p>They went to the movies together- the really bad ones –and Bokuto would cry whenever something even vaguely sad happened. One time, they biked around to every chocolate shop in their area of Tokyo. Another day, Kuroo convinced his mom to help Bokuto dye the tips of his hair white again. (Because he had wanted to look like their school mascot, an owl, apparently.) </p>
<p>But so far, the weirdest thing they had done was the ‘Akaashi Keiji Fan Club.’</p>
<p>See, Bokuto had a habit of spilling out his secrets whenever he was annoyed or extremely excited. On Friday afternoon, after Kuroo explained his whole volleyball club situation, Bokuto had blurted out that he went and watched the volleyball club practice sometimes and invited him to come, which is how Kuroo ended up sitting on the grassy hill outside the gym.</p>
<p>“No one suspects a thing,” Bokuto assured him, spreading out his legs and trying to peer through one of the open doors.</p>
<p>“Wait, why did you want me to come again?” Kuroo asked, still confused.</p>
<p>“I told you! Your mom thinks you’re on the team. I come watch them after school anyway. Boom! We get to hang out, and no one will be able to tell you were lying.”</p>
<p>“Why don’t you just join the club?” Kuroo started tearing at the grass to distract himself from the irony.</p>
<p>“I can’t join! I haven’t played volleyball since my 3rd year of elementary school!” His voice edged into the sulky tone that Kuroo knew meant trouble. “I’d embarrass myself in front of Akaashi!”</p>
<p>“Who’s Akaashi?”</p>
<p>“WHO’S AKAASHI?” Bokuto screamed, looking insulted.</p>
<p>“Dude, they’re going to hear us if you keep yelling.”</p>
<p>“Akaashi is the reserve setter. He’s really good. Probably the prettiest person that has ever stepped into Fukurodani’s halls. He-”</p>
<p>“Bokuto, is he why we’re watching the team practice?” Kuroo smirked as Bokuto tried to deny it.</p>
<p>“How do you always guess the right thing?!” Bokuto puffed his cheeks out sullenly. “The reason we’re here is for you, Kuroo! But, being part of the Akaashi Keiji Fan Club also includes watching volleyball practice. Two-in-one!”</p>
<p>“’Two-in-one,’” Kuroo muttered. “Hang on, you just come watch this guy practice? That’s weird.”</p>
<p>“Is not!” Bokuto protested. “Akaashi needs people to cheer him on! Oikawa-kun always overshadows him, so he doesn’t have that many people cheering him on.” Bokuto’s intentions were so nice, Kuroo didn’t feel like teasing him about it anymore.</p>
<p>“I guess that makes sense.”</p>
<p>“So, does that mean you want to join?”</p>
<p>“Join what? Th-The Fan Club?”</p>
<p>“Yeah!”</p>
<p>Kuroo paused, not sure if he was ready to get <em> that </em> weird. Bokuto looked at him with pleading eyes. “I guess I can. Are there any requirements you have to meet to join?”</p>
<p>“Nah.” Bokuto shook his head. “I’m too busy to come up with any. But, hey, welcome to the club!”</p>
<p>After that, neither of them said anything. Kuroo listened to the once familiar sound of volleyballs hitting the gym floor. Bokuto fidgeted, probably uncomfortable with the silence.</p>
<p>“Why don’t you just ask this guy- Akaashi-san–to be your friend?” Kuroo asked. “Just talk to him in the hall or something.” When Bokuto didn’t respond, he tried to backtrack. “Making friends can be hard. It’s definitely tricky to figure out if someone thinks of you as a friend as well, or if they have certain qualifications that they want you to meet...” Now he was just pulling from his own experience.</p>
<p>Bokuto slapped him on the back, which hurt a lot more than it should have. “Being friends with someone doesn’t have qualifications. It’s about having a bond with someone- just like us! You can’t change that.” He grinned. “Akaashi’s so pretty, though. I get all nervous around him, and besides, I already ruined things between us.” Bokuto let out a heaving sigh and fell backwards into the grass. Before he could say anything else, he started rolling down the hill.</p>
<p>“Ah! Bokuto!” Kuroo jumped up, chasing after him. Bokuto banged into the side of the gym with a loud thud noise.</p>
<p>“What was that?”</p>
<p>“Probably a monster, Iwa-chan!”</p>
<p>“Really, you think so?!”</p>
<p>“It came from outside.”</p>
<p>The sounds from inside the gym halted. Kuroo bent down to pat Bokuto’s unmoving body. One of the gym doors slid open and out stepped a guy with one of the most symmetrical faces Kuroo had ever seen. He had slightly curly black hair, perfect eyebrows and dark blue eyes.</p>
<p>“Are you alri-” He followed Kuroo’s gaze to where Bokuto was lying on the ground. “Bokuto-san, what are you doing?”</p>
<p>“Akaghsi!” His friend sat up, blearily shaking his head. “I was just walking by, that’s all!”</p>
<p>“I told you to stop sitting on that hill. It’s dangerous,” The pretty person shook his head, looking only slightly annoyed. “And don’t you have something better to do with your time besides watching our club practice?”</p>
<p>“I, uh, I-”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry,” Kuroo immediately regretted speaking up when the guy turned to look at him. “I’ll, uh, get him to the nurse.”</p>
<p>The stranger- probably Akaashi-san –nodded once and shut the door. “Argh!” Bokuto shouted. “I told myself I’d use my heels if that ever happened again.” He looked really upset.</p>
<p>“Is that a common occurrence?” Kuroo smirked. “Hey, at least he recognized you, right?”</p>
<p>“No! I knew he would recognize me!” Bokuto shook his head, looking all miserable and wilted. “But he definitely thinks I’m weird now.”</p>
<p>“Well,” Kuroo struggled to come up with something to say. He hadn’t had a friend in so long, much less one like Bokuto. “You have me. I can help you woo Akaashi-san.”</p>
<p>Bokuto perked up. “This year?”</p>
<p>“Yeah! We’re friends after all.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“He’s not here,” Kenma said, barely containing his annoyance. This guy, <em>again?</em></p>
<p>“He’s right there,” Villain NPC insisted.</p>
<p>“That’s not him.”</p>
<p>The guy shifted the baguette in his hands. Of course he had the nerve to bring more bread. Where was he getting all of it? “Look,” He smirked a little, tilting his head to the side, “I think we’re having some-”</p>
<p>“Morisuke’s my boyfriend,” Kenma said flatly. That was his ultimate move, the one that turned most people away.</p>
<p>The bread dropped to the floor. “You are-uh, that…That is, I didn’t know Yaku-san was into guys. Or younger guys…Nothing against you, though…”</p>
<p>“You got a problem with it?” Kenma stared down at the guy in what he hoped looked slightly threatening.</p>
<p>“No! My friend…No, it’s…I’m sure plenty of other guys are jealous,” He floundered. “N-Not me! I just bought him all this bread, so…”</p>
<p>“Listen,” Kenma said in the coldest voice he could manage. “If you’re just here to make yourself feel better, you might as well leave.” The stalker’s face fell, and he swallowed hard, standing back up with wobbly legs.</p>
<p>
  <em> His health is low. One more hit- </em>
</p>
<p>Suddenly, Kenma was yanked off his feet by his shirt collar. He struggled to get his toes on the ground. “What’s your problem? My main man here just wants to see Yaku-san!”</p>
<p>Who was this person? Spikey hair, unruly uniform, a huge mouth…</p>
<p>Village Idiot level 3.</p>
<p>“What are you doing here?” The black-haired guy asked. The other person threw Kenma onto the ground. Great. He was going to have a bruise for sure.</p>
<p>“I followed you! Friends have each other’s backs, remember?”</p>
<p>“Oh, look,” Kenma said drily. “The stalker has his own stalker. That makes both of you total creeps.” He started to stand up, but the spikey-haired guy started shaking him again.</p>
<p>“What did you say?!” He shouted, probably breaking Kenna’s eardrums. Kenma kicked at him, hoping to end this before the guy actually decided he wanted to fight.</p>
<p>“Let’s just go,” The stalker tried pulling his friend away from Kenma.</p>
<p>“Not until he lets you see Yaku-san! You’ve been trying so hard-”</p>
<p>“Bokuto, stop!”</p>
<p>Kenma shoved at the friend’s arms. People started to stand up and check to see who was making all the commotion.</p>
<p>“I don’t have to apologize for anything. You two are the ones intruding.”</p>
<p>“HEY! Stop blaming Kuroo! He’s not doing anything!”</p>
<p>“Bokuto, it’s oh...okay,” Villain NPC stopped moving, despite the fight going on right in front of his eyes. “Sorry, Bokuto. You’re on your own.” The villain ran off. Kenma watched uselessly as Morisuke followed him down the stairs.</p>
<p>“They left,” Kenma said, finally shoving the spikey-haired guy off. He checked to make sure his camera was still intact and made his way towards the balcony a few feet down the hall.</p>
<p>“Hey! Boy! Where are you going?!” The idiot kept following Kenma outside. “Oh! Look, there’s Kuroo and Yaku-san!”</p>
<p><em> Thanks for stating the obvious. </em> Kenma turned his camera on and started zooming in on Morisuke and the stalker guy all the way down at the bridge.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?! Are you spying on Kuroo?!” Kenma nodded reluctantly. This guy was so loud. It was annoying. “Let me see!” He yanked the camera from Kenma’s neck and squinted at the screen.</p>
<p>“If you break that, I’m suing you,” Kenma added, because this guy seemed like someone who careless with things all the time.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry! I’ll buy you two- Hey, don’t you think Kuroo talks with his hands a lot?” He switched subjects so quickly it made Kenma dizzy. He grinned like he had made some huge discovery.</p>
<p>“It’s called Sign Language,” Kenma told him tiredly. He took the momentary distraction to his advantage and tugged the camera back.</p>
<p>“Wait, Yaku-san’s deaf? Cool! Kuroo didn’t tell me,” He patted Kenma’s back and beamed. “I bet you know Sign, right? Since you’re Yaku’s boyfriend and all!” <em> He had heard that? </em> “Translate for me, okay?!”</p>
<p>Kenma sighed, leaning forward to get a better look.</p>
<p>“Don’t fall.”</p>
<p>“I won’t,” Kenma watched as Kuroo apologized to Yaku.</p>
<p>”‘Who was that idiot you were with?’</p>
<p>‘I don’t know. I have never seen him in my life.’”</p>
<p>It took a second for the guy to figure out Kenma was joking. He was slow. </p>
<p>“Be! Honest!” He shouted. “Tell me what they’re really saying! And why are you talking so blandly?!”</p>
<p>What did he want, a 5 star performance? “Fine.” Kenma squinted and watched as Kuroo brought his hand up to his forehead. </p>
<p>“’For the past week, I’ve been trying to find a reason to see you. I wasn’t sure if we could be considered friends, but I still wanted to visit you. Finally, I found a reason.’”</p>
<p>‘I am glad you came. I was thinking the same thing.’” Morisuke pressed his fingers together- the sign for ‘same.’</p>
<p>“Is that it, boy?” </p>
<p>”Mm-hm,” Kenma shuffled through his camera’s photos and tried to mask how confused he felt. </p>
<p>Morisuke barely ever agreed with people.</p>
<p>That had to be a bad sign. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sign Language Circle = shuwa group. It’s where people who use sign language can get together. It’s usually held at community centers. It’s like club, in a way.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. jmp</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kuroo and Yaku feed the fish. Kenma comes to a conclusion.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, I brought bread,” Kuroo finished awkwardly, turning around to grab the tall baguette. Yaku was watching him with this oddly patient smile, and it somehow made Kuroo even more nervous.</p><p>“Here,” He tore it in half and handed the larger part to Yaku. Immediately, the boy took a huge bite of it, fitting more of the bread into his mouth than seemed possible for a guy his size. Yaku caught Kuroo’s judgmental expression, and he raised an eyebrow in response.</p><p>“It was for the fish,” Kuroo pointed at the water to emphasize. </p><p>Yaku put the bread on one of the bridge handles and signed<em>, I know. Just testing it.  </em></p><p>“Sure you were.”</p><p>Yaku ignored him and started throwing the bread out into the lake below. Colorful Koi fish swam towards him eagerly. Again, Yaku smiled the slightest bit, and Kuroo looked away, feeling oddly like he had stumbled upon something he wasn’t supposed to. He started to tear off pieces of the bread in his hands and drop them down. </p><p>“Why did you start feeding the fish, Yaku-san?” Kuroo glanced over to look at him, remembering again that Yaku couldn’t hear him. Yaku was chewing on the hard end of his bread and staring down at the fish circling beneath them. Hadn’t he put that bread on the bridge earlier? </p><p>Thinking it was okay, Kuroo started eating the bread himself. Suddenly, there was a tugging on his shirt. Yaku pointed at the baguette in his hands and glared at him. </p><p>“What, so it’s fine for you to eat it, but I can’t?” Yaku turned away from him, completely missing everything, and pulled out the notebook for Kuroo to see. He pointed at it and moved his left hand down to intersect with his right, held parallel to the ground. <em> Thank you.  </em></p><p>Kuroo nodded and watched as Yaku started turning through the pages. “Wait!” He said with sudden realization. “You actually-you might not want to read that!” Kuroo tried to grab it from Yaku’s hands, but he held it up above his head in an attempt to keep it out of his hands. The wind caught onto it, blowing it out of both Yaku and Kuroo’s reach. It flew in an arch over their heads and straight into the clear water below. </p><p>“Ah!” Yaku clasped his hands onto the metal edge of the bride in alarm. Kuroo peered over his shoulder to look at it. Well, it was food for the fish now. That notebook was nasty anyway. Undeterred, Yaku pulled himself up and swung his leg over the ledge. </p><p>“Yaku-san!” Kuroo reached for Yaku’s hand in alarm, but he was an inch off. Yaku fell into the water with a loud splash. Without thinking about it, Kuroo leapt in after him. He soured through the air and landed painfully on his feet. Well, it was certainly different from when he did it as a kid. The cold water seeped into his uniform, and he stood up, gasping for breath. </p><p>Something soggy was on his head. “What-?!” Algae? A sea monster? Oh. Yaku’s notebook. </p><p>“Over here, Yaku-san,” He wiped the water out of his eyes. Yaku stood up a few meters away, his back facing Kuroo, and pushed his wet hair out of his face. Kuroo started wadding past the wavy seaweed-like plants and the fish to get to him. He almost reached Yaku, but the guy ducked back into the water. Kuroo grabbed Yaku’s shirt, and he started thrashing his limbs around, struggling to get out of Kuroo’s grasp. </p><p>Kuroo pulled him up and backed away warily. “Calm down. You’re going to drown yourself.” Yaku’s eyes held this feral look. He spotted the notebook in Kuroo’s hand and yanked it.</p><p>It tore in half.</p><p>Yaku held it up towards his face in horror. His tiny hands curled around it, and he clenched his jaw like he was struggling not to cry. </p><p>“Yaku-san?” Kuroo held out the other half uncertainty. He brought his hand up to his forehead and signed <em> Sorry </em>. Seeing Kuroo apologize like that must have changed Yaku’s mind. INstead of angry, he just looked disappointed. </p><p>Sighing, Yaku took it reluctantly and pushed his short legs through the water, heading towards the concrete sidewalk sprinkled in pink blossoms. Kuroo followed him out of the river. The air was chilly against his wet skin, and the exhausting events of the day rushed back into his head. Suddenly, all Kuroo wanted to do was nap. </p><p>Yaku sat down and swung his legs up and down above the clear water. He was short enough that his feet didn’t touch the tiny ripples that the wind created below him. A pool of gray grew under him as his tan uniform dripped on the concrete. It was so quiet, just a brief moment that hung between them after the storm. </p><p>Yaku stood up so quickly Kuroo almost got hit in the chin by his head. He turned around with the pieces of his notebook clenched tight in his fists and bowed low. Kuroo felt dizzy from all the sudden changes. It was like Yaku couldn’t decide he felt. Angry or calm? Upset or grateful? </p><p>Well, that was his cue to leave and never come back. Yaku must be so unsure around him that he didn’t know what to do with himself. He watched Yaku retreating towards the stairs with slumped shoulders. </p><p>Then, like a second thought, a miracle of a moment that seemed unreal, Yaku looked back and raised up his hand in a sideways victory sign. </p><p><em> Later</em>.</p><p>*        </p><p>In elementary school, people always told Kuroo his grin made him look like the cat that ate the canary. While he personally didn’t believe this was an accurate description of his wonderful smile, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was why everyone seemed to be staring at him in the halls. </p><p>He couldn’t help the smile though! Yaku had wanted to see him again. He wasn’t even that upset about the torn notebook, or Kuroo pestering his boyfriend. Last night, Kuroo had made the ‘later’ sign over and over again under the kitchen table until Shouyou told him that he should go to the doctor. </p><p>Well, maybe Shouyou should try meeting someone who gave him feathery feelings. </p><p>“Hey, hey, hey! Kuroo!” Bokuto shouted as soon as Kuroo’s foot hit class 3-5’s floor. “How’re you doing?!” Kuroo avoided everyone’s eyes and slumped down into his seat. </p><p>“I’m...actually doing good today,” Kuroo admitted. </p><p>“Oh, me too!” Bokuto agreed, nodding a dozen times. Kuroo looked at him suspiciously, and he grinned in response. </p><p>“What? Is it your birthday today or something?”</p><p>“No! My birthday is in September!” </p><p>“Oh. Good to know.” </p><p>“Uh...Yeah, it is!”</p><p>“What is it, Bokuto?” </p><p>“Uh,” Bokuto squirmed under Kuroo’s gaze. “It’s just that, well, do you have any social media?”</p><p>Social media?</p><p>“I don’t even have a phone.” </p><p>“Oh, that’s why you didn’t want my number-”</p><p>“Hey, Kuro-chan,” Oikawa wandered over to them, and now Kuroo was 100% sure that people were staring. After all, eyes followed Oikawa like bees to blooming flowers. “Everyone’s been wondering,” Oikawa pulled out his phone and shoved it in Kuroo’s face. In the center of the screen was a photo of him in mid-jump, wild black hair flying and legs sprawled in an awkward position as he leapt into the river below. Oikawa let Kuroo take it in before continuing, “is that you?” </p><p>“Ah,” Kuroo swallowed nervously. It was a lose-lose situation. He could deny it and be called a liar or admit it and become a laughing stock. How had it even been posted? Was someone stalking him or something? “Where’d you get that?”</p><p>“It is you, isn’t it! I didn’t realize you were returning to your wild side!”</p><p>“I’m not-”</p><p>“Kuroo Tetsurou. Report to the counselor's office at once.”</p><p>Darn it.</p><p>*        </p><p>“Suspended for a week?!” Shouyou echoed. Sometimes he was as annoyingly loud as Bokuto. </p><p>“Yes,” Kuroo nodded impatiently and waited for the light to turn green. </p><p>Shouyou was silent for a second more than usual. Ever since the...incident….in the kitchen, he had been a bit more wary around Kuroo. “Where’s your bag, nii-chan? Wait, more importantly! Did you get kicked off the volleyball team?”</p><p>“My friend Bokuto is going to get it for me. And...yes.” Might as well pull <em> that </em> lie out of his life like the weed it was. </p><p>“Just for a week, right?”</p><p>“No-”</p><p>“Well, don’t worry! You can come with me and Kageyama to practice in the park.”</p><p>“Uh, no thanks.”</p><p>“You have to, to keep up your muscles! Mom is always telling me to go with someone anyway, so I don’t get hurt!” Shouyou grinned that adorable smile, and Kuroo faltered to refuse him. </p><p>“Just for an hour.” </p><p>“Of course!”</p><p>*         </p><p>It was decidedly unfair that the gods gave youngsters so much stamina. Kuroo’s old man legs decided to quit at 30 minutes. On the other hand, Shouyou and his grumpy friend had been playing for 2 hours already and only now had they stopped to take a break. </p><p>“Tetsu, Kageyama and I are going to go over to the vending machines!” </p><p>Kuroo sighed. “Okay. Don’t get attacked by any evil strangers.”</p><p>“If we do, Kageyama will die first!”</p><p>“No, I won’t! Kuroo, you idiot!” </p><p>Tetsurou had to admit it was so what unsettling to hear your own last name being yelled in a stunning variety of 3 different insults. He didn’t know how Shouyou handled it. </p><p>Really, the Fukurodani team made volleyball look so easy. Kuroo had figured he’d been fine; After all, he had only been kicked off Nekoma’s team 6 years ago. That wasn’t that long ago, right? Instead, he ended up playing babysitter for bickering 14-year-olds while struggling to catch his breath. He wasn’t sure which was more exhausting: the kids or the volleyball. </p><p>“Nii-chan! There’s someone over here! Kageyama, stop poking him!” </p><p>“How do you know it's a boy, huh? You can’t just assume people’s gender, Kuroo.”</p><p>“Stop waking them, Yama-yama!” </p><p>Tetsurou rolled his eyes and walked around the corner to see what they were going on about. </p><p>Spread out on the bench was a dirty kid. When Kuroo got closer, it clicked. Yaku’s boyfriend. “Move over,” He ordered, pushing past Kageyama to shake the kid’s foot. “Hey, are you alright?” The boy’s eerily cat-like eyes fluttered open. </p><p>He scanned the park in confusion before his gaze zeroed in on Kuroo. “Oh, the Villain NPC.”</p><p>“What? Uh, I mean, what are you doing here?” Suddenly aware of Shouyou’s and Kageyama’s eyes tracking his every move, Kuroo shooed them away. “Don’t worry, they’ll probably end up arguing and then it’ll take them 10 minutes to pack up.”</p><p>“You have kids?” The black-haired guy raised a judgmental eyebrow. </p><p>“What?! No, that’s my brother and his volleyball friend.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>He really wasn’t making this easy.</p><p>“So, what brings you to this lovely bench?”</p><p>“Are you trying to ask me why I look homeless?”</p><p>“Uh…Maybe? You should find shelter at least. It looks like it’s about to rain.” </p><p>“And?” He replied aggressively. </p><p>Kuroo held up his hands in surrender. “It was just a warning.”</p><p>“Nii-chan, let’s go home! I’m starving!” </p><p>“Huh? Okay. See you around, I guess.” Kuroo waved goodbye, thankful the conversation was over. </p><p>The boy trained his electric, cat-like stare on him for the briefest second before collapsing over. </p><p>*          </p><p>Akaashi watched as Iwaizumi-san started locking up the gym. They had wrapped up extra practice early due to the thunder clouds rolling in, and Akaashi was all too eager to get home before the rain. Still, the polite thing to do was to wait for his captain to leave, instead of dashing off with no care. </p><p>Oikawa-san started walking backwards towards the classrooms. He beamed at Akaashi for some reason. </p><p>“Why are you heading to the school?” </p><p>“Aw, look at you using your observational skills, Aka-chan!” </p><p>Akaashi resisted the urge to sigh at that obnoxious nickname. </p><p>“Are you bothering Akaashi again, Trashykawa? Was he bothering you?” Iwaizumi shoved the keys into his bag and turned to them with an accusatory look. </p><p>Akaashi decided he liked Iwaizumi. </p><p>“No way! Aka-chan here just wants to know why you decided to forget your books in the school when we’re 5 seconds from being soaked to the bone.” Before Iwaizumi could come up with a retort, Oikawa threw his arm up in a wave and started sprinting towards the sheltered patio of the bike ramp. </p><p>Weird.</p><p>“Sorry about him. And thanks for staying late this week,” Iwazumi patted Akaashi’s back. </p><p>Since Oikawa was about to graduate, Akaashi had been staying after practice to ‘learn the indescribable secrets of setting.’ (Term coined by The Grand King himself) Iwaizumi had come along as well, mostly to keep Oikawa in line. “I’m happy to. Oikawa-san is a great teacher.”</p><p>“Well, don’t let him hear you say that.” With that, Iwaizumi took off towards Oikawa, leaving Akaashi alone. He pulled out his umbrella and walked behind the gym. There was a shortcut up the hill that would save him time. He just had to get out of here before-</p><p>“Ah!” Akaashi’s knees bumped straight into someone. Sitting on the back step of the gym, with spiky salt and pepper hair, was someone Akaashi had seen many times. “Oh, Bokuto-san. Hi.”</p><p>“Akaashi,” He said in a whiny voice. Bokuto pulled the 2 book bags in his hands closer to his chest, pouting. Oh no. He was in a bad mood.</p><p>“What is it, Bokuto-san? It’s about to rain. You need to get home.” </p><p>“Yeah! I know that!” He floundered for a second, staring at Akaashi’s expectant face. “I just, I was waiting for Kuroo to come here, so I could give him his bag, but then I realized I forgot my umbrella! So now I’m stuck between running home and waiting.” </p><p>“Maybe you should stop watching practice. That’s probably why you’re stuck now.” </p><p>“I have to watch the practice! I’m supporting the school team!” Bokuto insisted, even though it was a lie, and they both knew it. </p><p>“Sure,” Akaashi agreed drily. “That’s great, Bokuto-san.”</p><p>“You really think so?!” He perked up a little. Good. This was good.</p><p>“Yeah. You could become the mascot or something.” </p><p>“I could!”</p><p>“Your hair even matches.”</p><p>Bokuto stood up excitedly. He was beaming. “Kuroo helped me do it!”</p><p>“Oh, your friend?” Akaashi had only seen him once, and his mess of black hair hadn’t been very promising. “He doesn’t seem the type to use hair dye.”</p><p>“Well, his mom helped too!” Bokuto’s mood seemed to have forgotten his awful mood, which was promising. What wasn’t, though, was the crack of thunder that followed his sentence. </p><p>Bokuto let out a loud groan. “I’m so doomed! You better come to my funeral, ‘Kaashi! I’m gonna be known as the teen who died from standing-up drowning!” </p><p><em> Standing-up drowning? </em>Was that a real thing? And Akaashi wasn’t sure if he had meant to mention the word funeral or if it was just a Bokuto Koutarou slip-up. </p><p><em> Just move on. </em> Akaashi fingered with his metal umbrella. “Well, we don’t want our ‘mascot’ getting wet.”</p><p>“I know! Kuroo’s going to be mad at me too, for getting his bag soaked!” Bokuto continued his rant about how he'd tragically lose his best bro and first friend. </p><p>“Bokuto-san, listen. I’m saying we can share.” Akaashi shoved the umbrella in between them, frowning a little. Bokuto’s face flushed in sudden realization. He nodded a few too many times. </p><p>“OKAY!” He grabbed it out of Akaashi’s hand and stepped off the gym stairs, stumbling backwards. Bokuto smiled uncertainly. “I mean, let’s go?”</p><p>Akaashi nodded and ducked under the safety of the umbrella. They started treading up the hill. “Oh, it’s coming.” Rain started pelting them with the aggression of angry bees. It was falling from the sky so quickly, the sky in front of them blurred into a dreary gray. </p><p>Akaashi scooted closer to Bokuto in an attempt to avoid the droplets. Bokuto stiffened noticeably, but this was a one-time occasion, so Akaashi didn’t have time to worry about being rude. A flash of lightning crackled in the sky in front of them. </p><p>“Hey, ‘Kaashi, did you know thunder always follows my sentan-”</p><p>
  <b> <em>BOOM!</em> </b>
</p><p>“See!?” Akaashi looked up into Bokuto’s eyes. They were golden, glowing despite the gloomy clouds around them. </p><p>Akaashi decided to humor him. “Is that so?” </p><p>“Just listen!” </p><p>He grinned at Akaashi’s expectant expression. A flicker of light made the trees show up as black silhouettes against the dark gray sky. </p><p>Bokuto inhaled a huge breath and then shouted in the loudest voice he’d ever heard, “AKAASHI KEIJI!”</p><p>
  <b> <em>BOOM!</em> </b>
</p><p>The vibrations from the thunder could be felt from all the way down here on Earth. Akaashi’s breath was stolen away. Suddenly, Bokuto forgetting his umbrella was the best thing ever and the rain hardly bothered him anymore. </p><p>“Well?” Bokuto preened at Akaashi’s sliver of a smile. “Cool, right?”</p><p>They were nearing the top of the hill. Akaashi started walking slower. </p><p>“Yes, Bokuto-san-”</p><p>
  <b> <em>BOOM!</em> </b>
</p><p>“Oh, look, it works for you too!”</p><p>“I don’t think so.”</p><p>“Come on, you gotta say something. This may be your last chance before the next storm.” Bokuto clasped his hands together over the umbrella in his modified version of pleading. </p><p>Akaashi sighed reluctantly. A flicker of light, and then, in the most expressive voice as he could muster, “Bokuto Koutarou!”</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>“...ROU!”</p><p>
  <b> <em>BOOM!</em> </b>
</p><p>“Yay! That means it worked!” Akaashi’s heart was beating quickly, with the same feeling he got when it was set point in a volleyball match. Suspense was always what caused it, but that wouldn’t make sense in this situation. Excitement, maybe? Bokuto probably had a lot of fun with his friends. </p><p>“I guess so.” He pitied those who couldn’t hear the thunder.  </p><p>“Well, this is my stop,” Bokuto pointed across the street at the train station. “Thanks for letting me share your umbrella with you!”</p><p>“Your welcome,” Akaashi took it out of his hands. He took a deep breath and admitted, “It was interesting. I...enjoyed it.”</p><p>“Really?!” Bokuto looked surprised. “You don’t look like you did.” </p><p>Akaashi’s good mood fell away in an instant. “Oh.” </p><p>Of course, he knew he had a terribly flat face. He knew he was bad at showing how he felt. </p><p>But, still. </p><p>It stung.</p><p>“I need to get home. Have a nice night, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi didn’t care that his shoulder was getting wet, he didn’t care that Bokuto looked confused, and he most definitely didn’t care that this went exactly the same as the first the first time they met.</p><p>He really didn’t care. </p><p>*           </p><p>The moment Kenma woke up, he wished he hadn’t. </p><p>“What’s your name?! How’d you get on the bench?! Do you like taking pictures?!” </p><p>Kenma hadn’t been asked this many questions since when he tried to apply for the volleyball club back in elementary school. He blinked the exhaustion out of his eyes, and focused on the offenders watching him. One was the Villain and the other was a short kid. </p><p>“Shouyou, stop pestering him.” The stalker guy looked as uncomfortable as Kenma felt, which didn’t really help. </p><p>“I’m not, Tetsu!” The orange-haired boy frowned at him before turning back to Kenma. “I’m Kuroo Shouyou! It’s nice to meet you!”</p><p>“Uh,” Kenma thought back to Rule Number 1: <em> Don’t Talk to Strangers </em>, and then decided to just press A. He was already in a tricky enough spot. “Kenma.”</p><p>“Kenma? Is that your first or last name?”</p><p>“First.” Kenma leaned away from Shouyou’s face. Shouyou reminded him of Nishinoya, and that wasn’t a good thing. </p><p>“Oh! Well, what’s your last name, then?”</p><p>“Maybe he doesn’t want to tell you. You can’t just pry into someone-who-you-don’t-know’s personal life,” The older Kuroo shook his head. </p><p>“That’s ironic,” Kenma muttered. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“So are you feeling okay? Mom put an ice pack on your face, but she said you’re probably just exhausted!” Shouyou bounced up and down on the couch, ignoring the Kenma v. Kuroo that was going on in front of his eyes. “You’re lucky! We don’t pick up homeless people often!”</p><p>“Shouyou!” Kuroo elbowed him. “That’s rude.”</p><p>“Nii-chan knows you, though,” Shouyou beamed at Kenma. It was too bright. </p><p>“I’m not homeless.” Kenma looked around the room. He was some sort of attic in a stranger’s home. There was a suspicious, torn-up, purple blanket covering him. </p><p>
  <em> Great, that made him the captured hero.  </em>
</p><p>He could probably take a NPC villain and an inexperienced...sunshine...person, though. </p><p>“Then why were you at the park?” Kuroo asked, leaning forward. “Plus, you collapsed on the spot. Most people would be at their house if they were feeling ill.”</p><p>“Uh,” Kenma’s eyes fell to his lap. </p><p>
  <em> Morisuke was angry at him. Mom was in a bad mood all the time. Grandpa Nekomata was constantly at the volleyball court reminiscing about his old days.  </em>
</p><p>Basically, his house had turned into a dungeon. </p><p>“DINNER’S READY!” A female voice called from below them.</p><p>“Yay!” Shouyou sprinted down the stairs in the corner of the room. Kuroo looked back reluctantly at Kenma. </p><p>“Just because you did this doesn’t mean I like you,” Kenma reminded him, since it was a fact that favors only equal adoration in RPGs. </p><p>“Yeah,” he sighed. “I didn’t expect anything more.”</p><p>*   </p><p>Kenma sighed and spread out on the futon, listening to the rain. He watched as moonlight hit Shouyou’s face, making his orange hair look dimmer. After dinner (which had <em> not </em> included a baguette like Kenma had expected) and several video game competitions, his new friend had crashed, falling asleep right away on the pillow. </p><p>Being with the Kuroo family was strange. Their home was warm and alive, in a friendly, stark contrast to the Kozume one. It had been so easy to relax in their company. Kenma really didn’t want to be friends with people who were related to the stalker, but…he couldn’t help it. Shouyou was just so interesting, exciting, and energetic. </p><p>Everything Kenma wasn’t. </p><p>His mom always liked to nag him about being more social, insisting that he needed friends outside of Morisuke (and, by extension, Noya). Kenma didn’t care about what his mom thought, but even Morisuke, who was generally on his side, agreed with her. </p><p>Shouyou hadn’t even minded when there weren’t enough futons. <em> That’s </em>how confident he was. Kuroo didn’t even have one, which was unsettling. </p><p>
  <em> Kuroo Tetsurou.  </em>
</p><p>The criminal. The irredeemable villain who had the nerve to crash the Sign Language Circle. </p><p>Morisuke had been so angry last night. Not at Kuroo, for trying to barge into their lives after dragging Morisuke through the mud, but instead at Kenma. </p><p>The way he had jammed his pointer finger right at Kenma had said everything he couldn’t yell. </p><p>
  <em> YOU leave him alone! YOU let me deal with things myself! </em>
</p><p>Kenma pulled his camera closer to his chest and groaned. Time to leave. Being by someone he hated made it impossible to sleep. He slid the blanket over as softly as possible and slipped through the curtain. </p><p>Kenma was good at quiet. </p><p>He made it outside and into the cold rain. Kenma hated the cold. Darn it. He should’ve stolen an umbrella. He forced himself to take a step onto the freezing concerte. This part of Tokyo was somewhat busy during the night. No one would question him being out. </p><p>Hopefully. </p><p>His quest to get home was tampered minutes later by the fact that the train service wasn’t running for the rest of the night. He fruitlessly scanned the map. Well, he could just walk ‘up’ until he got tired. Morisuke was always the one who knew his way around. He was the one who would help Kenma if he got lost. </p><p>Speaking of Morisuke...Kenma stopped over near the edge of the sidewalk. There was a dead frog lying there, light green belly facing towards the merciless sky. He pulled out his camera and snapped a picture. They were going to run out of room in the kitchen for these. Maybe he could put one in the bathroom. Then, he’d be reminded every time-</p><p>“Eh? Why’d you leave so soon, Kenma-kun?” </p><p>Kenma froze in place. </p><p>“I bet you didn’t want to see how Shouyou acts in the morning, huh? Did he scare you away?” Kuroo held out an umbrella in his hand. Why was he acting so friendly? It was weird. Kenma stood up on his own.</p><p>“No, it was you.” </p><p>That shut him up. He swallowed nervously. Kenma took the chance to sprint away. </p><p>“Wait!” The stalker chased after him. No wonder Morisuke didn’t want Kenma to talk to this guy. He was a creep. “Wait! I’m...sorry.” Kuroo paused to catch his breath. “I shouldn’t...have said...that.” </p><p>“Okay.” Kenma turned around and walked forward, hoping that if he acted confident, Kuroo wouldn’t notice how lost he was. </p><p>He figured it out 3 minutes later. “You live in this district? Why do you go to the rec center in Nerima, then?” </p><p>Kenma’s silence was enough for him to figure it out. “Ohhh, so you're lost.”</p><p>Reluctant alliance it was. “I need to get to my apartment.” </p><p>“Where is it? I might know the way.”</p><p>
  <em> Villain NPC has accepted your offer! </em>
</p><p>“It's somewhere near the park.”</p><p>“Do you remember any more...landmarks? Kinda hard to work with what you’re giving me.” </p><p>“Well, normally I go home with Morisuke, so I don’t pay attention.” </p><p>He remembered warm summers walking on the busy sidewalk between Grandpa Nekomata’s school and their apartment. Morisuke had dragged him along by his sleeve, signing and frowning and trying to distract him from his phone. <em> ‘Kenma, stop playing that game. You are going to get lost.’ </em></p><p>Kenma wilted. “He was right…”</p><p>“Huh? Who was right?”</p><p>“Morisuke.”</p><p>“Oh,” At the mention of his name, Kuroo sounded even more uncomfortable. “So, uh, do you two live together?”</p><p>“Why do you think that?” Kenma asked drily. People tended to leave him alone when he sounded disinterested. </p><p>“Well, you mentioned that he walks you home, so-” </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Kuroo didn’t pressure him into any more conversation, which was good. Kenma told himself it was good. He didn’t like this guy. So he shouldn’t...he shouldn’t feel this way.</p><p>Then, right when he was debating whether or not to feel save the guy some grief: </p><p>“So, did you and Yaku-san get in a fight?” </p><p>Oh,<em> of course </em> Kuroo thought that was what happened. He probably only knew the bad side of Morisuke. </p><p>Unfortunately...fighting <em> was </em> what had happened.</p><p>“Yeah. He’s so overprotective. It gets annoying.” </p><p>“Well, it’s true what they say. Relationships can be tricky sometimes.” Kenma fought the urge to roll his eyes. Like this guy had any experience. </p><p>He decided to change the subject instead. “You’re going to get soaked at this rate.” Kenma reached forward to move the umbrella backwards. He was met with resistance. </p><p>“Yeah, well, it’s my fault for only grabbing one. I don’t mind a bit of water anyway,” Kuroo replied easily. </p><p>That reminded Kenma of yesterday afternoon all over again. “I was surprised that you weren’t mad at me earlier.”</p><p>“Eh? Why?” </p><p><em> This idiot. </em>“I was the one who posted that picture of you jumping into the river online. Now I know you were just too dumb to figure out it was me.”</p><p>“What?!” Kenma waited for him to get angry, but the next time he spoke he just sounded relieved. “I guess that makes sense that it was you, though. At least you have a reason.” Kuroo sighed. “Uh, speaking of reasons...Is there a more specific one...for why you hate me so much?”</p><p>“Huh?” Kenma froze. “What kind of question is that?”</p><p>“Well, it’s not that I don’t get it. I know...I’m an awful person. But I’m trying to fix things. So, I could try and fix whatever bothers you about me. I-If that makes sense?” Kuroo lowered the umbrella in between them. He reminded Kenma of a turtle, hiding behind his shell to avoid everyone’s eyes. </p><p>He was a coward, and Kenma wanted so badly to hate him instead of relating to the way his shoulders hunched. “Listen,” Kenma said quietly. He knew Kuroo would hear it, though. He was desperate. “You think that suddenly caring is going to make you a good person? I know what you did.”</p><p>Even without being told, Kenma knew. He saw it in Morisuke’s forced smile, the way he’d spend hours angrily curled up next to their cat with fresh bruises and scrapes. He hated seeing someone so honest and caring look like that. He couldn’t stand it. </p><p>The bitterness of it all still felt new, like a truth that wasn’t quite accepted yet. </p><p>He...he couldn’t defeat this enemy with a swipe of the fingers. This boss didn’t go away after the level was over. It was frustrating, in a way that made Kenma wish he could just hit replay. </p><p>“Even if you accept that you’re a terrible person, which you are, that doesn’t mean it’s going to change! It’s so selfish to come back and make this about you when Morisuke’s trying to move on! So stop pretending to care about me, <em> about Morisuke</em>, and GET OUT OF OUR LIVES FOR GOOD!”</p><p>Kuroo didn’t say anything. He probably couldn’t. People never knew what to do when Kenma got angry.</p><p>Finally, softer than the rain and cars speeding through puddles, “I just want to make sure Yaku never cries again. <em> Please </em> let me fix this, Kenma-kun.” </p><p>Morisuke would give him a chance. No, he <em> did </em> give Kuroo a chance, years ago, and again now. </p><p>Morisuke found a way to press replay. Every darn time he found a way. </p><p>Kenma reached up and pulled the umbrella from in between them. He forced himself to look right into Kuroo’s golden brown eyes. They looked like Shouyou’s. Shouyou. Kuroo was Shouyoy’s brother after all, so he couldn’t be the depths of the 7th dungeon bad, right?</p><p>Kenma didn’t even have to say anything. It wasn’t forgiveness exactly, but something close. Not quite an alliance, but not a declaration of war either. </p><p>It was a ‘let’s try.’ </p><p>It stopped raining, and the street became silent. </p><p>*</p><p>The night was quiet without the drizzly rain, and the moon was bright in the now clear sky. There was no one outside his stiff apartment, which was just how Kenma liked it.</p><p>“This is far enough.” He turned around to face his tour guide, the newly converted-to-good Kuroo Tetsurou. He deserved the truth. “Oh, and sorry for not telling you sooner.”</p><p>“Hm? Tell me what?”</p><p>“That I’m not Morisuke’s boyfriend.” Kuroo didn’t even look surprised. “We’re...actually cousins.” </p><p>“Cousins,” He repeated. </p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Oh. I figured it was something like that.” </p><p>Now it was Kenma’s turn to feel dumb. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“Next time try to act more jealous when some random guy comes for your so-called ‘boyfriend,’ okay?” Kenma glowered at him, and Kuroo dared to smile.</p><p>“I’m not even the main boss,” Kenma replied, thinking of Noya. </p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Kuroo exclaimed, looking the way Kenma had hoped he would react earlier. </p><p>Kenma just smirked and flashed a sideways victory sign. “Later.” He only walked a few steps before he saw his mom storming towards them. Her chin was held high and her expression was cold in a way that Kenma saw in himself and the mirror. </p><p>Kozume-san reached forward and slapped Kuroo with absolutely 0 hesitation. <em> A direct attack! </em>Then, she marched back towards Kenma and grasped his wrist tightly. </p><p>His mom might have seemed calm and level-headed, but her hands held an anger that was shared with Morisuke and his aunt, Yaku-san. Kenma never found anger in his hands. It rarely came, and if it did, it was linked to Morisuke. Anger always traced its way back to his cousin. </p><p>Even now, while his mom was frustrated with him for running away, it came back to Morisuke. Kenma had left because of him, and therefore he was at the stem of it. </p><p>Still, it was impossible to blame him for any of that.</p><p>“Kenma!” Morisuke shouted as soon as the door opened. He jumped up and hugged Kenma. </p><p>He patted his worried cousin’s back. “It’s fine. <em> I’m </em> fine.” Overprotective wasn’t that bad, in the long run. </p><p>“Kenma, I don’t want you to hang around that boy.” His mom held out a towel with an icey look. “Tell Morisuke-kun that as well.”</p><p><em> That boy. </em>Well, ‘that boy’ was better than her, the level 42 stone queen converted to the evil side. </p><p>Besides, Kenma had leveled up during his adventure. He knew better. “I can hang out with whoever I want. Morisuke as well.” <em>You’ve lost the right to control us, Mom.  </em></p><p>*</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>R.I.P. Yaku's notebook...Tape might not be able to fix it.<br/>This chapter took me so long to write, so I'm really happy to finally publish it! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. frnd</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kuroo finds Yaku's friends.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kuroo was woken up at exactly 6:21 am on a Saturday by a pair of very loud and very invasive voices. </p><p>“I don’t know. He’s still sleeping,” came Shouyou’s high pitched one. </p><p>“He’s my best bro! I have to talk to him,” the other one insisted. </p><p>“Talk to me about what?” Kuroo asked grumpily, struggling to sit up. “This is a breach of privacy.”</p><p>“Oh, please! Shouyou-kun let me in!” The overconfident indignation stirred him out of dreamland. “That’s not a beach at all! In fact, there’s no sand-”</p><p>“Bokuto, why are you in my house?” Kuroo rubbed his eyes and focused on his best friend, who was practically vibrating from where he sat on the carpet. His hair was a barely brushed mess; it didn’t even look like he had bothered to stick it up in its signature spikes. Under Bokuto’s golden eyes were dark circles. Apparently, he hadn't been able to sleep. </p><p>“Listen, Akaashi and I were hanging out yesterday night while you were off challenging your lover’s rival!” Bokuto shouted so fast Kuroo firmly decided he wasn’t ready for this. “Also your mom gave me coffee, so I’m feeling really good right now!” </p><p>“Wait- she gave him coffee?” Kuroo looked over at Shouyou for confirmation. His little brother nodded gravely. </p><p>“I’m sorry, nii-chan. Bokuto-san came in, and he’s really cool, so I didn’t want to say no! And when Mom saw him, she got excited and went full-on hostess.”</p><p>“Me and Kuroo Jr. have been bonding while you were sleeping,” Bokuto added. “Your little bro here has all the cool volleyball moves!” </p><p>“Bokuto-san’s the best!” Shouyou cheered. </p><p>Kuroo did not sign up to be assaulted by the sunshine smile this early in the day. </p><p>“Well, if you two are getting along so well, why don’t you go play outside while your nii-chan sleeps? I’m really tired right now, Shou-chan,” Kuroo started to lean backwards onto his pillow. </p><p>“No! If you go to sleep, you’ll lay in bed all day!” Shouyou protested. “Besides, Bokuto-san wanted to talk to you. You’re being rude to him!”</p><p>“Fine,” Kuroo sighed, resigned. “What is it-”</p><p>
  <b> <em>DING-DONG!</em> </b>
</p><p>Before Bokuto could tell him, the doorbell rang. </p><p>“I’ll get it!” Shouyou scrambled onto his feet and ran down the stairs. </p><p>“Okay, tell me now before Shou-chan comes back,” Kuroo pulled his blanket off, deciding that there was no way he could go back to sleep at this rate. </p><p>“Right, so 2 days ago, Akaashi talked to me! And I really wanted to tell you, but every time I was going to, other classmates were around, and then at volleyball practice, I couldn’t, because Akaashi might miraculously hear me,” Bokuto practically trembled with excitement. Kuroo didn’t understand why.  </p><p>“Well, you are loud,” He finally agreed. </p><p>“Hey! Am not!” Bokuto frowned. </p><p>“Is that all you woke me up for?” </p><p>“Don’t you see? This means that I’m repairing my friendship with Akaashi! This means you can help me like you said you would!”</p><p>“What do you mean ‘repair?’” Kuroo asked suspiciously. “What did you do?”</p><p>“NII-CHAN! Kenma’s here!” Shouyou’s voice put a halt to their conversation. </p><p>“Okay! Coming!” </p><p>When they got all the way downstairs, Shouyou scanned him up and down with wide eyes and growing realization. Right, he had on pajamas. Whatever. It was too early in the morning to be embarrassed. </p><p>“Uh, Good Morning?” Standing there, in the tight hall in front of their backdoor, was Kenma and Yaku. </p><p><em> Yaku was in his house. </em> </p><p>Remember what Kuroo said about not being embarrassed? Scratch that. Scratch all of it. </p><p>“...Good Morning,” Kenma repeated back. Yaku elbowed him. “Look, I know it’s early, and I was kind of hoping you’d be asleep, but Morisuke wants me to...thank you. For helping me get home on Wednesday.” He turned away from Kuroo awkwardly. “See, I did it? Can we go now?” Yaku shook his head back and forth. </p><p>“Well, I think it’s a really nice thing to do!” Shouyou, bless the extrovert in him, didn’t seem to find the situation weird at all. </p><p>“Thanks, Shouyou,” Kenma smiled a little. After introducing Yaku to Bokuto and his little brother, Kuroo had already decided going back to sleep had resurfaced as the best option. Being around so many people was exhausting. He was ready to kick all of them out of the house, even Yaku.</p><p>“Kenma, want to see a volleyball move Bokuto-san and I made up? It’s really cool!”</p><p>“I don’t know. Morisuke wanted-” Yaku patted Kenma so hard on the back, he stumbled forward. “O-okay. It better be interesting.”</p><p>“It totally is!” Shouyou dragged Kenma out to the backyard. </p><p>“Kids,” Kuroo whispered, once again reminded of how tragically old he really was. </p><p>“We’re kids too!” Bokuto crossed his arms. </p><p>Kuroo decided against arguing, instead looking over at Yaku. He smiled at Kuroo and moved his hand over to his wrist to sign<em> thank you</em>. He was referring to Kenma. </p><p>“Oh! Yeah, he needed help so...” Kuroo shrugged. For some reason, this all felt way weirder with Bokuto standing right there. He really wished that his friend would go away. </p><p>They waited in silence for Shouyou and Kenma to get back. It didn’t seem to faze Yaku at all, but Bokuto sure looked uncomfortable. </p><p>“Well, we better go. Mom doesn’t know we left,” Kenma side-eyed Yaku. “She...kinda..told us not to come, but Morisuke insisted.”</p><p>“Yeah, I get it! My mom doesn’t even let me go to the convenience store alone!” Shouyou agreed quickly. </p><p>“That’s because you always get lost,” Kuroo said. </p><p>“I don’t!”</p><p>“It’s fine, Shouyou-kun! I get lost all the time as well! This one time I saw a really cool bird, but after following it for a few minutes, I ended up in the shopping district! I didn’t even know which direction would get me home, but luckily-”</p><p>“<em>O-kay </em> , thank you, Bokuto,” Kuroo put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and led him out the door. The unwanted guests started leaving. Yaku was the last to go, and he flashed Kuroo their signature <em> ‘later’ </em> sign before stepping out into the warm spring air. </p><p>Kuroo mirrored him, confused, before reaching to grab the door knob. Yaku wasn’t done. He stuck his pinky and thumb out and turned the back of his hand towards Kuroo, shaking it a little. He sent Kuroo an expectant look. </p><p>“Yeah,” He felt short of breath, for some reason, either relief or fear. “Yeah, I’ll see you on Tuesday.” </p><p>*</p><p>It was the first time Kuroo successfully walked through the door of the Sign Language Circle. No ‘special guardians.’ No past traumatic grief. No bread. He just walked right through and no one thought twice of it. </p><p>It was refreshing. </p><p>“Kuro, over here.” He swung around and saw Kenma slumped at a table in the back of the room. He had on a hoodie despite the fact that it was the middle of May, and he had gone back to whatever game he was playing on his phone by the time Kuroo had scooted around all the moms to get to him. </p><p>“Hey,” He greeted, but Kenma just ignored him. “Uh, where’s Yaku?” </p><p>“He and Noya went to go look at the fish. Should be back soon.” </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“Nervous? Why are you being so weird?” </p><p>Kuroo scowled. “I’m not the one being weird. You’re pretending I’m invisible.”</p><p>Kenma sighed, like just talking to him was a challenge. “That’s because <em> this </em>is more interesting,” He tapped on this phone harder for emphasis.  “And besides, I’m not the one who invited you here anyway.”</p><p>“Yeah, last time I checked, you didn’t even want me to come,” joked Kuroo, hoping it would resolve the argument that was building up. </p><p>“That was a few days ago. I don’t care now,” Kenma said. </p><p>“Well, fine by me.” Kuroo sat down at the table in front of him (Look, he didn’t want to risk sitting in Yaku’s seat) and turned back so he could still keep an eye on Yaku’s cousin.</p><p>“Hey, Kuro, have you ever played this game?” Kenma turned his phone’s screen towards him. Sprawled across it, in blue and red, was the word <em> Game Over</em>.</p><p>“No, why?”</p><p>“I’m stuck on this level,” He swiped out of the app. “I think I need a break. The more I try, the worse I get.”</p><p>“Well, uh, I’m sure you’ll find a solution,” Kuroo provided helpfully. </p><p>“Thanks,” Kenma frowned at him. </p><p>“Speaking of phones, though,” Kuroo sat up, “I got one.” </p><p>His mom had been so excited to have kids over a few days ago (“It’s great that you're being social again!” and “Having friends is a good step towards getting a solid support system.”) that she had bought him a new phone to ‘stay in contact.’ It was really pathetic, honestly, that she was so worried about him. Still, neither of his family members acted as normal around him since the Flaming Money Incident. </p><p>“So...Can I have your number, Kenma?” He held out his shiny phone hopefully. The only person Kuroo had texted so far was Bokuto, who, he had soon found out, liked to send weird owl pictures at 2:38 a.m. He was ready to add someone else, someone <em>normal</em>, to the list. </p><p>Kenma took it and typed his name and information into the contacts. “Don’t text me unless it's important,” He warned. </p><p>“Hang on, aren’t you the one who constantly receives shrimpy's useless texts? Last night, he was up until 11:00, apparently having a conversation with ‘Kenma, obviously.’ I don’t see how anything I have to say is less important than what he texts.”</p><p>“Shouyou is different,” Kenma said immediately, unfazed by his mocking tone. </p><p>“Okay, whatever you say.” </p><p>“We’re back!” A loud voice shouted from the doorway. The whole room turned to look. Standing there, with the bright artificial light shining down on his face, was one of the shortest boys Kuroo had ever seen. He was shorter than Kenma. He was shorter than Yaku. He was even shorter than Shouyou. </p><p>The boy’s moment of glory didn’t last long. Yaku, who was standing behind him, grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the table in the back, looking embarrassed. Yaku bowed to the room in apology, and the quiet chatter returned. </p><p>“Kenma, you’ll never guess what we saw! A yellow koi! It swam right up to us. I bet I could have grabbed its shiny scales right out of the water with my bare hands, but Yaku wouldn’t let me. It was <em> so </em>cool, though! Right, Morisuke-kun?” </p><p>Up close, Kuroo could see how small he actually was. His hair had one wild streak of dyed blonde sticking up, front and center. <em> A bold hairstyle.  </em></p><p>Next to him, Yaku was shaking his head and smiling at the same time. </p><p>“Hey! Are you the new guy?!” It took Kuroo a second to realize Noya was talking to him. </p><p>“Yeah. That’s me.”</p><p>“Morisuke-kun didn’t say you’d be so tall.” It was hard to stare at this guy’s shoes, when he was so darn short. This was going to be a problem. “The name’s Nishinoya Yuu!”</p><p>“Kuroo Tetsurou.” Nishinoya was glaring at him like he set the world on fire. They hadn’t even met before and already this guy hated his guts. Great.</p><p>Before it could get out of hand, Yaku stepped between them and sat down next to Kuroo. Nishinoya’s frown evaporated. He sunk next down into a chair next to Kenma, who had gone back to his video game. </p><p>“Here, let me try.” </p><p>“You can’t just dodge all the villain’s blows, Noya.”</p><p>Shaking off the hostility of the encounter, Kuroo took the chance to talk to Yaku. He pulled out his phone and met his eyes to make sure Yaku knew he was talking to him. “So, I got a new phone a few days ago. Do you have a phone?” </p><p>Yaku nodded suspiciously. </p><p>“That’s great!” Kuroo knew he was signing stiffly, as if it was his first time twisting his hands into sentences. He couldn’t help it; Yaku’s cat-like pupils were piercing, intense as he watched Kuroo. He was intimidating without even opening his mouth. “Is there anyone’s number you want?” </p><p>Yaku nodded again, but this time he was smiling slightly. </p><p>“Do you maybe want mine-”</p><p>Yaku held his hand up with his thumb facing towards the air, and his pointer and middle finger were open, similar to the sign for seven. Then he stuck his pointer finger up towards the sky and kept his middle finger sticking sideways, in an L shape. He pressed his thumb next to his pointer finger and moved his whole hand left. </p><p><em> Su...ga. </em> </p><p>“Sugawara-san?” Kuroo asked, face falling unwittingly. Memories of high fives and sweaty grins and chalkboards rushed in all at once. Yaku tilted his head expectantly. “I...I don’t have his number. Sorry.”</p><p>*</p><p>It was inching closer to summer every minute that ticked by on the clock. Sweat dripped down Kuroo’s face and into the grassy hill below him. The sun beat down like a relentless teacher, glaring at his back with no mercy. Shouts from the Fukurodani gym cut through the humid air and the loud sound of Tokyo traffic. </p><p>Kuroo clenched his pencil harder and glared at the offensive sheet of homework he had brought to this week’s ‘volleyball practice.’ </p><p>“What’s the matter, bro?” Bokuto scooted closer to peer at what Kuroo was trying to hide. “Oh, that future job plan thing?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Wasn’t that due a few days ago?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I put down that I wanted to marry Akaashi and be an owl caretaker on mine! Oh, or a grocery owner!”</p><p>“What?” Kuroo turned sideways to see if Bokuto was actually serious; his expression said he was. </p><p>“Don’t judge me, dude. You haven’t even written anything.” Kuroo didn’t bother explaining that a few weeks ago, he didn’t even think he was going to have a future. In fact, he was still uncertain about that. How was he supposed to have a successful career when he didn’t even see the point of waking up in the morning?</p><p>“Whatever. I’ll probably just put down ‘hairdresser’ or something,” He sighed and started writing that. It wasn’t a half-bad idea. </p><p>“Hairdresser?” Bokuto squawked, sounding unreasonably offended by the idea. “You can’t even take care of your own hair!” Kuroo reached up to touch his bedhead defensively. </p><p>“I always pay attention to other people’s hair. Besides, who was it who helped you dye your owl hairdo a few days ago? This guy,” Kuroo jerked his thumb at himself. “So don’t start shutting down my ideas.”</p><p>“Yeah, ideas. Not <em> dreams</em>. What do you dream to be, Kuroo?” Under Bokuto’s surprisingly sharp gaze and the heat of the sun and stuffy humid air, Kuroo felt himself getting overwhelmed. </p><p>“I don’t have any dreams! Okay!?” He stood up angrily. “And I don’t have to!”</p><p>Bokuto leaned away from him, looking hurt. “I'm trying to help you.”</p><p>"I...I know." Kuroo sighed as the anger was washed away with guilt. “Look, it’s not your fault. I’ve just been stressed about this. Thinking about the future always makes me feel irritable, you know?” </p><p>“I was just expecting you to say Yaku-san,” Bokuto admitted. “I didn’t realize it bothered you so much.” </p><p>“Yaku-san?” Before Kuroo could decipher what he meant, a sharp whistle pierced the blue sky. “Looks like volleyball practice is over.”</p><p>“Operation Akaashi, here we go!” </p><p>“Not so loud, Bokuto, he’ll hear you.”</p><p>Operation Akaashi included two (2) steps: 1) distract the rest of the team 2) ask Akaashi Keiji on a date. (The second step was Bokuto-exclusive.) They walked down the hill carefully (no way was Kuroo going to risk incidentally rolling down) and found the volleyball team. Most of them were still loitering in front of the gymnasium. </p><p>“Make sure not to push yourself too hard, Oikawa,” said a gruff voice that rang a bell with Kuroo. He must’ve heard it before. </p><p>“Oh, come on, Iwa-chan, you know I don’t!” </p><p>“You do. And I’m serious this time.”</p><p>“Just like you were serious the last 32 times, right?” Oikawa laughed. The teasing lilt of his voice sounded exactly the same as it had elementary school. </p><p>
  <em> Su...ga. </em>
</p><p>If anyone knew where Sugawara went to school now, it was Oikawa. Completely forgetting all of Operation Akaashi, Kuroo walked over to where Oikawa was arguing with his friend. </p><p>“Hey, Oikawa-san,” Kuroo said, in his nicest voice. </p><p>“Yeah?” The guy looked confused, which just made this whole interaction more nerve wracking. </p><p>“Do you know where Sugawara Koushi, from 6th year, goes to school?” </p><p>“Suga-chan?” Oikawa smiled. “Yeah! He and Tsukki-kun go to Karasuno High School all the way in Miyagi. We’ve actually played against them at a practice match not too long ago. Why are you looking for him, though? That’s kinda...out of character,” He gasped. “Are you planning some Elementary School post-revenge murder?” </p><p>“Uh, I’m not,” Kuroo ducked away from them, ignoring the sound of Oikawa getting scolded behind him. </p><p>
  <em> Karasuno High School.  </em>
</p><p>It couldn’t be that far away. </p><p>*</p><p>“Bro, you said it wouldn’t be that far away!” </p><p>Kuroo squinted at the train station’s digital map as the line to Sendai passed by once again. “An hour and a half isn’t that far.”</p><p>“That’s not including the stops for food, the stops for other people to get off, and the stops to text me how you’re doing!” The true test of Bokuto’s loud voice was if it could be heard over the sound of businessmen and tourists flocking Tokyo Station. His words echoed off the tile floor, and miraculously, Kuroo was able to hear every word. </p><p>“We won’t have to stop for food. And why would I stop to text you, Bokuto?” Kuroo was too overwhelmed to be truly annoyed, though. So many people at once both lessened and increased how anxious he was feeling. On one hand, more people meant less were staring at him, but on the other hand, there were that many more to avoid. </p><p>It was stressful. </p><p>“You weren’t gonna text me? I’m your best friend, Kuroo!” Great. Now Bokuto was upset as well. </p><p>“Who’s Kuroo’s best friend? Last time checked, it was me.” The familiar soft tone came right from behind them. </p><p>It was Kenma. </p><p>“Kenma-kun, how’re you doing? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever! Still dating Yaku?” Bokuto lit up after seeing him, which saved Kuroo from his dangerous emo mode, at least. </p><p>“They aren’t dating, Bokuto. They’re cousins,” Kuroo impatiently fished out his wallet. </p><p>“You still believed that? Kuro said it was a terrible cover,” Kenma sounded amused. </p><p>“It was a great one! I might try it sometime if my enemy gets too close to Akaashi or Kuroo!”</p><p>“Please don’t.” Kuroo’s plea was lost in the crowd, but he knew Bokuto wouldn’t have listened even if he had heard. </p><p>“Who’s your enemy? What level is he at?” </p><p>Kuroo tuned them out and turned towards the blinking pass machine. He needed a 2 way trip, so it should cost a good amount. Next to him, someone stuck a picture of Noguchi Hideyo under his nose. Kuroo looked sideways in surprise and saw Yaku, who was still holding the 1,000 yen bill. </p><p>He smiled and bowed his pointer fingers at each other, sort of like taking a picture. Kuroo mimicked the sign back, surprised. </p><p>“Uh, why are you here, Yaku?” </p><p>The boy glared at him for a hot second before signing, <em> I will go.  </em></p><p>“You don’t have to do that,” Kuroo backed off as Yaku nodded, insistent. </p><p>“Just buy the tickets. People are waiting,” Kenma added unhelpfully. Yaku pushed him away from the machine and started doing it himself like the stubborn teenager he was. </p><p>“Okay…” Kuroo stepped away, feeling useless. (What was new?)</p><p>“I’m going to miss you! Don’t do anything crazy, dude!” Bokuto hugged him tightly. </p><p>“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you? We aren’t even going that far away,” Kuroo patted his arm awkwardly and pushed him away. Luckily, Yaku swooped in with the tickets and relieved Kuroo from anymore over dramatic goodbyes. </p><p>“If you do anything bad, Kuro, I’ll remove your converted villain status. Remember that,” Kenma threatened, staring at Kuroo with those intense cat eyes. He nodded stiffly, and they left, making their way towards the train platform.  </p><p>It was under the ground, and unlike the area where you’d buy tickets and reservations, the lighting was dim. Yaku’s smile was bright, though. He looked excited. </p><p>To think, years ago, Kuroo would have never gone anywhere with Yaku. He would have made fun of the idea. <em>No.</em> No, he was changing. He was doing this to become a better person and to help Yaku, who was an old face but a new friend. The loud sound of the train approaching and squealing on the breaks echoed against the concrete wall. Kuroo stepped inside as the door opened automatically, careful to make sure that Yaku was right behind him. </p><p>At fast as it arrived, it was off, speeding away from Tokyo. It was nice, in a way. It was like he could forget everything. Run away from it and start something new.  </p><p>Kuroo watched as Yaku stood by the cabin’s door, as if he was eager to leave. Only one other person was in the cabin- an old person who seemed to be half-asleep and not paying attention at all. </p><p>“You don’t want to sit?” Kuroo asked, catching Yaku’s attention and signing along to his words. “We reserved seats.” Yaku shook his head, and instead chose to look out the window. The train sped through the cement station and out into the more suburban area of the city. Houses and the occasional station passed by quickly, fast enough that if you closed your eyes, you would miss all of it. </p><p>Eventually, the train’s swaying fell into a comfortable rhythm, and they made their way onto a stretch of land that was open to the blue sky. Grassy fields and white clouds were all he could see. There were no buildings, no people, except for the ones in the train car. </p><p>Kuroo looked across to where Yaku was standing. He looked relaxed. The golden light illuminated his face, from the highlights in his blonde hair to his freckles sprinkled across the bridge of his nose and even to the hearing aids tucked in his ears. Yaku was glowing. </p><p>Then, faster than the train he was riding on, it hit him. </p><p>Yaku...Yaku was <em> cute.  </em></p><p>Sensing Kuroo’s stare, the cute boy in question turned to meet his eyes. Kuroo whipped his head towards the scenery outside, feeling warm and cold and flustered all at once. </p><p>This was really bad, but he couldn’t stop the smirk spreading across his face. The irony of it all was annoying. </p><p>His phone buzzed from his back pocket, a welcome distraction. There were 2 people it could be: either Bokuto or Shouyou (who’s contact name Kuroo had changed to Chibi-chan just to annoy him.) </p><p>To his surprise, it was actually Yaku Morisuke’s name that showed up in his notifications. </p><p> </p><p>From: Yaku Morisuke</p><p>Are you frustrated? People will get suspicious when you smile like that. </p><p>I got your email address from Kenma. He talks about you a lot. </p><p>It made me very happy to hear that you were looking for Suga! </p><p>I know we’ll find him.</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo held his phone as gently as he could. His heart thumped faster. This was a step towards forgiveness. This was a conversation. He typed a response as quickly as he could. </p><p> </p><p>To: Yaku Morisuke</p><p>I’m sure we will. Sugawara-san, here we come! </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p>After at least an hour playing this annoying Would you rather? app Yaku had (only to find out they had a tragically small number of things in common), the train pulled up to Sendai station. </p><p>“You can’t convince me cats are better,” Kuroo insisted stubbornly. Even if they were, he wasn’t about to admit it. They had been on a streak of opposite answers, and Kuroo didn’t want to be the one to break it. </p><p>Yaku rolled his eyes and stepped onto the platform. Kuroo wasn't sure what was scarier: the fact that he always seemed to sense when Kuroo was lying or that he wasn’t afraid to call him out on it. </p><p>“Here, let’s get to the side,” Kuroo led him over to a corner and pulled out his phone. He typed <em>Karasuno High School</em> into the map app and showed it to Yaku. “It’s not that far. We just have to get out of the station first.” </p><p>Sendai Station was busy with people ready to go home for the day, putting them against the traffic. Eventually, they were able to get on the escalator, and Kuroo relaxed a bit. Sure, they were in a new place neither of them had ventured to before. Sure, he was pretty lost right now, but at least he didn’t have to worry about Yaku getting lost in the crowd anymore.</p><p>Yaku leaned over his shoulder, looking way too enthused about being taller than him at the moment, and observed Kuroo’s screen. Kuroo pointed at where the phone thought they were located. “See, the arrow’s pointing forward, but I think that’s South. It’s trying to take us through a wall, I think.” Yaku reached his arm over Kuroo’s shoulder and hit the ‘redirect’ button. “Oh. But now it’s saying to-”</p><p>“M-mori-kun?!” </p><p>Kuroo stiffened at the familiar nickname and turned around. Yaku rammed right into his back and glared at him. “Sorry, Yakkun.”</p><p>"Mori-kun!" There wasn’t much time to feel bad, though, because racing down the escalator towards them was a person made up of silver hair and a perfect beauty mark. “It’s me!” He shouted. “Sugawara!” The familiar face stopped in front of them, and his voice softened. “From Elementary School.” </p><p>Yaku gasped from beside him. </p><p>“Ah! Kuroo-san, what are you doing here?” Sugawara looked properly confused. </p><p>“We came to find you, Yakkun and I.” </p><p>“Eh? Why?” His smile stiffened. “Are-are you two friends?” </p><p>Yaku nodded. Kuroo shrugged. </p><p>Sugawara sighed, still looking between them uncertainly. “Well, it’s nice to see both of you. Why don’t we go sit down outside? I think we have a lot of catching up to do.” </p><p>*</p><p>The sky was getting dark. Cars zoomed by the train station, picking up their passengers in a minute’s time and leaving just as quickly. The sound of cicadas buzzed between Sugawara’s sentences. He pulled his hands away from each other. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” Yaku could hardly contain his smile as he mimicked the sign back. </p><p>Kuroo couldn’t understand how Sugawara and Yaku seemed to just...click, even years later. He was jealous, to be honest. Making friends was confusing and hard, yet they were already getting along just fine. </p><p>“Since Elementary School, I’ve been studying Sign Language,” Sugawara brought his hands up, palms facing towards him like a book. “Was that right?” Yaku nodded, full on beaming by now. “I know I just...left you in 6th year.” His next words were barely audible, just one delicate sentence. “I’m really sorry about that.” Suga wilted a bit. “But I was so happy to see you! And really surprised, to be honest.” </p><p>Yaku pressed his fingers together.<em> Same. </em> </p><p>“You’re taller, I think,” Sugawara remarked. “Kuroo-san as well.” He lowered his voice into a mock whisper. “He’s basically a lanky pole by now.” Both of them laughed at his expense as Kuroo glowered at the ground. </p><p>Kuroo’s next sentence came out more passive-aggressive than he meant it to. “What are you doing here, Sugawara-san?” </p><p>“Oh! I’m actually here to find the prices for tickets to Tokyo. Our volleyball team is going to a training camp there. Coach isn’t sure if we should take a bus or the train, so I volunteered to come check it out.” Yaku’s eyes widened, and he signed quickly, turning his back to Kuroo.</p><p>“When? It’s coming up next weekend.” Now it was Suga’s turn to look surprised. “Seriously?!” </p><p>By now, the sun has set completely. The dark was setting in. Kuroo stood up, stretching. “Sorry, Sugawara-san, but it’s getting really late. We better head back.” </p><p>Sugawara nodded patiently. “I totally get it! Thank you for coming all this way. It...means a lot to me to see both of you again. Mori-kun, see you later, okay? At camp.” He signed <em> their </em>signature ‘later’ sign.</p><p>Sugawara was nice. </p><p>Kuroo was happy for them. Seriously. Not jealous. </p><p>When they finally got away from Suga, Yaku turned to Kuroo. Then, honestly, because everything Yaku did was honest, he flattened his right hand and tapped his left hand down on his wrist. </p><p>
  <em>Thank you.</em>
</p><p>The street lights made stars in Yaku’s brown eyes. His mouth was pressed in a tight line. He was staring right at Kuroo, but it lacked familiar, fiery intensity.</p><p>Yaku looked vulnerable. </p><p>Kuroo didn’t know what to say.</p><p>It hardly mattered. Yaku wouldn’t hear him anyway. <br/><br/></p><p>*   *</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*The train scene always gives me this warm feeling when I watch it. Hopefully, I was able to convey that in a way!</p><p>*If you're wondering why Tsukishima didn't show up after they met up with Sugawara, like Ueno does in the scene, he will come back into the protagonists lives very soon! I just couldn't imagine Tsukishima working a part time job near the station, much less one at a cat cafe, so I'm changing it up a bit.</p><p>*I am very happy to finally use the nickname ‘Yakkun.’ It’s not leaving. </p><p>*Like always, thank you for reading and supporting this story! It motivates me a lot to see your comments and kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. frnd (ii)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yaku gets some bad news. Akaashi and Bokuto come to an understanding. Kuroo sees an old friend at training camp.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the Thursday before training camp, Morisuke went to the otolaryngologist. He knew that was how you spelled it because he had written down so many times, on so many permission slips that ended up crumpled in the bottom of his book bag. </p>
<p>He etched the word over and over and over, <em> otolaryngologist, otolaryngologist, otolaryngologist, </em> until it was carved into his brain; until his pencil snapped in two from all the pressure he was putting on it; until he wanted to scream, because even though it never returned to his ears like he wanted it to, he could feel the ache in his chest and the vibrations in his weak vocal cords, and when he screamed the anger grew and built the fire that burned him inside out. He was so angry with himself, <em> all the time, </em>like an endless storm, an infinite hurricane, of frustration </p>
<p>Morisuke hated the otolaryngologist. It was a reminder that he was the epicenter of all the problems. It was a reminder of something he was ignoring, something he pretended not to notice, because maybe, just maybe if he was lucky, the flutter of noise would return to his ear instead of running out of reach. </p>
<p>The otolaryngologist was far away from home. Grandpa Nekomata always took him there. He was the only one willing to. His aunt would never. Kenma offered once, but then he saw what it did to Morisuke, and he never dared again. And his mom. His mom couldn’t.</p>
<p>Grandpa’s wrinkly hands tapped against the stirring wheel- a sign that he was nervous. Yaku rarely got nervous anymore; it was always anger or surprise or happiness. He didn’t see the point of getting nervous. </p>
<p>Morisuke was always honest with himself. He told himself what everyone was thinking, whispering, even if it hurt. </p>
<p>It didn’t matter if he actually heard their words: the expression was enough. It was always in the expression- the fake, false, unreliable expression. </p>
<p>They pulled up in a new parking lot surrounded by shiny glass buildings. Blue sky and fluffy clouds drifted by, gazing at their reflection. Skyscrapers, particularly in the medical district, made Yaku feel small. People in the medical district were busy. He disliked the way everyone seemed to ignore the prettiness of the architecture, and how they pretended not to notice the shimmer of light through tree leaves planted by the cement sidewalks.</p>
<p>He stepped out of the car and followed his grandpa into the squat building, unimportant among hospitals and therapy centers. Yaku didn’t like the inside of the otolaryngologist’s building either. The tile was a brown color and the elevator was scary. The fish tank was the best part. Every time they visited, he would wander over to it and watch the tropical fish swim lazily through the clear water. </p>
<p>Yaku wondered all the time if fish could hear. Did noise come to them like it did to him, fighting its way through the ocean?</p>
<p>What was he thinking? Fish didn’t even have ears. </p>
<p>Soon it was his turn to get his hearing checked. The doctor stuck tools in his ears and pricked and pinched and moved his mouth to form useless sentences. Morisuke was messed up, and it didn’t take him dozens of tests to know that. </p>
<p>Maybe he could lie, say he heard a trickle of something in his scarred ear and ease their expectant looks. Maybe he could raise his hand and lie, lie, lie and make himself like everyone else. </p>
<p>Yaku was an honest person.</p>
<p>The results came like something old in a shiny package. He watched his Grandpa's face fall as he turned to look at him. The way his mouth fell open unwittingly, and how his eyebrows furrowed- it all screamed disappointment, helplessness. </p>
<p>Morisuke hated it all. He couldn’t stand it. He hated his ears and the otolaryngologist and himself. His hands curled tight around his knees. He blinked back his tears and glanced in his Grandpa’s direction. Yaku knew it had been coming, but he had been too scared to admit it to himself. </p>
<p>His right ear could hear no longer. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“Whaaaa!” Shouyou shouted, throwing his remote down on the torn-up couch in defeat. “I can’t believe I lost again! And I promised myself I would grab victory this time!” </p>
<p>“Want a rematch?” Kenma asked, already predicting his competitive friend’s next words. The TV screen scrolled by with the results of their latest round of digital fighting; Kenma had completely crushed Shouyou, mostly because the latter only pressed the jump button half the time. </p>
<p>“Actually, can we talk for a second?” Shouyou’s voice turned reluctant. </p>
<p>Oh no. Feelings. “Yeah, sure.” </p>
<p>“You and Tetsu hang out some, right?” </p>
<p>Where was he going with this? Was this some sort of unlocked monologue? Had they reached A-support?</p>
<p>“Mm-hm. Sometimes.” </p>
<p>“I’m gonna be honest with you, ‘kay?” He paused. “A few weeks ago, my brother was...was going to kill himself. I-I don’t know what to do, Kenma! I always feel so useless and awkward around him!” Shouyou turned towards him with wide, almost frightening, eyes. “You’re observant. I need you to tell me if anything seems suspicious. You <em> have </em> to.” </p>
<p>The taste in Kenma’s mouth turned bitter. He related to this, unfortunately. “Of course. Of course, I will, Shouyou.” </p>
<p>“Good, because he’s been so sneaky lately! Nii-chan will come home late, and a week ago he came to dinner doing this weird sign thing-y. I tried to help him, but he got all angry,” Shouyou tried to mimic Kuroo’s signature leer, “You know how he is: ‘Talk to me <em> after </em> you’ve grown a few inches, shrimpy,’ and all.”</p>
<p>“Kuro is just a sneaky person in general,” Kenma pointed out. </p>
<p>“True!” Shouyou agreed, laughing. Kenma couldn’t understand how he bounced back up so quickly. When Kenma started worrying deeply about Morisuke, it kept him up all night and plagued his dreams with haunting images. It always gave him a subdued feeling, like the world was painted as blue as one of Picasso’s paintings. </p>
<p>Shouyou was just an optimistic person in general, though. He had slowly inched his way into Kenma’s life. He started visiting him more often after school and texting him late into the nights they didn’t see each other. Shouyou was so cheerful and passionate that he burned past all of Kenma’s shyness until Kenma could confidently say he had a friend of his own.</p>
<p>“Oi, Kenma, what are you doing here?”</p>
<p>Kenma turned around to see Kuroo, smiling at them with a knowing glint in his eyes. His school bag was slung behind his shoulder, and his uniform had grass stains on its tan fabric. </p>
<p>“Ah, Tetsu, you’re back early.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. It’s freaky hot outside, you know,” He walked over to sit on the couch next to Shouyou. </p>
<p>“Don’t! You're gross and sweaty, plus you smell bad right now!” Shouyou scooted backwards into Kenma’s personal space. He was warm, and his orange hair brushed against Kenma’s chin. </p>
<p>“You have no room to talk! You come back from volleyball practice looking disgusting,” Kuroo shot back.</p>
<p>“I do not! At least <em> my </em> volleyball club practices inside!” </p>
<p>“Shouyou, space,” Kenma choked out, pushing his friend as lightly as he could. </p>
<p>“Oh! Sorry.” He moved away, finally giving Kenma room to breath. “Hey, nii-chan, want to play a round? I want to see Kenma crush you!”</p>
<p>“Are you kidding me? I’ll definitely win,” Kuroo outstretched his hand for the remote. </p>
<p>It only took 2 minutes for him to lose: a new record. Kuroo’s face was worth it. It could almost be adapted into a game sprite’s face of defeat.</p>
<p>“I’d better leave,” Kenma stood up and grabbed his camera. </p>
<p>“Oh, I’ll walk you out!” Shouyou replied easily, jumping off the couch and leading the way to the back door. </p>
<p>They lingered there. Kenma didn’t want to leave the warmth of the Kuroo household, and Shouyou just kept smiling at him. </p>
<p>“Uh...listen. About what you said earlier...If you see Kuroo selling anything, that’s always the first sign. You know what I mean?” Morisuke gave away lots of his things: books, clothes, shoes. Kenma tried fruitlessly to stop him, but he always found a way to get around his block. “People are attached to their belongings. If they let them go, they could be up to something.”</p>
<p>Shouyou nodded, eyes serious. </p>
<p>“Well, see you later,” Kenma swung open the door and waved backwards to Shouyou, who held up his hand back half-heartedly. </p>
<p>He took the train home and stepped back into the apartment just as the sky started growing darker. Kenma took off his shoes and reached down to pick up his cat, who had come over to rub against his leg. </p>
<p>“Welcome home, Kenma.” His grandpa was sitting at the kitchen table with his glasses on. He had been busy for about a week leading up to the annual May training camp planning meals, checking the roster, and trying to find volunteers. </p>
<p>“How’s it going?” Kenma pulled Riko-chan closer to his chest as she started to purr. </p>
<p>“Is it just me, or are female managers disappearing by the dozens? Back in my day, some teams even had two managers! They must be migrating to the basketball team.” </p>
<p>“Probably, Grandpa,” Kenma agreed absentmindedly. He peeked across the kitchen into the living room. “Hey, didn’t you go to the ear doctor today?” </p>
<p>A beat. “Yes.”</p>
<p>“Where’s Morisuke?” </p>
<p>“He rushed outside as soon as we got back.” </p>
<p>“Again?” Riko-chan jumped out of his arms and onto the wooden floor. “I’ll be back.” Kenma shoved his shoes back on and rode the elevator down to the bottom floor. In the back of their apartment building, by the dumpster, was a brick wall. Kenma found Morisuke there, like he always did. </p>
<p>Yaku was throwing a volleyball against it, receiving and digging and looking so furious Kenma wanted to retreat. His arms were scrapped up with familiar red marks and bruises. </p>
<p>One of his hearing aids was thrown on the ground a few feet away. Kenma reached down to pick it up. It looked small in his palm. </p>
<p>Morisuke noticed him. He stormed forward, tucking the volleyball under his arm, and snatched it away from Kenma. His hand curled around it, like he could crush it if he squeezed hard enough. </p>
<p>“What happened?” Kenma asked, eyebrows furrowed. Clear liquid dripped down Morisuke’s face. They both pretended it was just sweat. “Have you been playing all afternoon? Why don’t we go back to the apartment?”</p>
<p>Morisuke’s shoulders deflated. He trudged past Kenma and towards the stairway. Kenma’s eyes followed him. The euphoric high he had gotten from hanging out with Shouyou dissipated, replaced by worry and anxiety for his cousin. </p>
<p>He needed to come up with a distraction. Something to pull Morisuke away from himself, to instead focus his energy into something healthy. Originally, Kenma used volleyball. He would swallow his pride and volunteer to throw the ball for Morisuke until all the anger had dried up. It was a good coping measure for both of them, especially when Morisuke first moved in. </p>
<p>Now though, volleyball just made things worse. Morisuke would push himself until he was hurt and aching with his beat up arms. He would get sick if Kenma didn’t pull him back to Earth. For someone who tried to mother everyone, he was awful at taking care of himself. </p>
<p>He could call Nishinoya. Sometimes he was able to distract Morisuke with his loud personality and enthusiastic smiles. </p>
<p>Or...or Kuro. </p>
<p>He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a quick text.</p>
<p>
  <em> Training Camp @ Fukurodani needs ball boys. Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Be there. </em>
</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Kuroo visited Bokuto’s house for the first time after school on Friday. It was intimidatingly large and well kept. When he got into Bokuto's room, he relaxed a bit. It was messy and more attuned to what he had expected. </p>
<p>“I can’t believe you got us insider information! You’re the best, bro!” Bokuto grinned from ear to ear. </p>
<p>“It’s not insider information if anyone can find out about it on the internet.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but <em> you </em> got an invitation. From Kenma!” Bokuto started throwing some clothes in his bag. </p>
<p>“Why haven’t you packed yet?” Kuroo asked, glaring at his friend’s wide back. “I told you we have to go back to the school right away!”</p>
<p>“I was so excited that I got distracted,” Bokuto started zipping it up. “It’s fine! See?” </p>
<p>“I’m pretty sure you packed some dirty clothes in that.”</p>
<p>“Oh, who cares?” Bokuto waved him off. “I’ll just be sweaty at the training camp anyway.” </p>
<p>“Akaashi will be there,” Kuroo reminded him. Bokuto stiffened and then shook his head. </p>
<p>“I can’t let it deter me! Besides, you were the one who said we needed to get to the school!” Kuroo sighed. He was really hoping that inviting Bokuto along wouldn’t turn into a mistake. He hadn’t wanted to go into it alone. After all, Sugawara, Oikawa and Yaku were all going to be there. 3 living reminders of things he messed up. Bokuto had offered to come, like the good friend he was, but the more his friend opened his mouth the more he regretted it. </p>
<p>They took the train line to the stop close by Fukurodani Academy, arriving just a little late. Kenma saw them first, and he yanked them behind the gymnasium. He looked tired. </p>
<p>“Okay, are you two ready for your mission? What did you bring in your inventory?” Kuroo and Bokuto held out their bags obediently for him to examine. “That should be fine.” </p>
<p>His friend had passed even with his rushed packing?! Bokuto smiled at Kuroo’s surprised look. “What is it?” Kenma asked impatiently. </p>
<p>“Nothing…” Kuroo stuck his tongue out at Bokuto. </p>
<p>“Look, I told my Grandpa that I managed to get <em> well-trained and qualified volunteers. </em> If either of you mess anything up, I’ll make sure you regret it. That means <em> K. O. </em> Merciless Knockout. Got it?”</p>
<p>“I’ve never done this before,” Bokuto blurted out. </p>
<p>“Thanks for boosting my confidence,” Kenma muttered. Then he turned on his camera. “Look, this is a secret picture of the permission slip all the players had to sign. As long as you don’t get into a fist fight with anyone you should be fine. Isn’t that right, <em> Kuro? </em>” Kenma sent Kuroo an icy look. </p>
<p>He froze. “Right. No fist fights.” </p>
<p>“Besides all the helpers do is get water and towels. Oh, and some cooking. You guys can cook, right?” </p>
<p>Kuroo exchanged a look with Bokuto. </p>
<p>“Whatever. Morisuke will teach you. He’s good at it.” Kenma gestured for them to follow him through the gym. All the doors were open and afternoon light shone through the windows beautifully. Kuroo had never actually been <em> inside </em> Fukurodani’s main gym. It was taller than he anticipated, and there were poles sticking up randomly from the polished brown wood. How many years had it been since Kuroo smelled the inside of a sweaty gymnasium? It was oddly nostalgic. </p>
<p>“Grandpa!” An old man turned to them, smiling. He had wrinkles on his forehead, around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes, yet he looked energized. </p>
<p>“Ah, Kenma, are these your friends?” </p>
<p>“Friends is a stretch,” Kenma whispered. Kuroo was pretty sure he was the only one who heard him. “Grandpa Nekomata, this is Kuroo and Bokuto.”</p>
<p>“Eh, Kenma look at you, not even using honorifics!” He patted Kenma’s back good naturedly. Kenma scrunched up his face miserably. “It’s nice to meet you, Bokuto-kun and Kuroo-kun! Thank you so much for volunteering.” </p>
<p>“Our pleasure! Kuroo’s little brother plays volleyball, so we know all about it! It’s not like we’ve ever seen Fukurodani’s school play, or anything like that, though!” Bokuto laughed too loudly, and Kuroo elbowed him. </p>
<p>Nekomata-san seemed unfazed. “Well, it’s good that you know a bit about the sport. Would you two mind going to help the other teams unload the cargo? I think Morisuke is over there- he should tell you where to place your bags.”</p>
<p>“Is Kenma helping?” Kuroo asked, looking over to where the boy in question was taking a picture of the window. </p>
<p>“I’m just here because Mom wanted the apartment to herself.”</p>
<p>“We’ll make sure to help as much as we can!” Bokuto pulled Kuroo out to the parking lot. Most of the buses were already there, including Karasuno. He spotted Suga’s gray hair and instinctively stepped that way. </p>
<p>“Look, Kuroo, Akaashi!” Bokuto pointed the opposite way, towards the only team that didn’t have a bus. </p>
<p>“Uh, I’m going to go help Yakkun,” Kuroo faltered when he saw his friend’s face fall. </p>
<p>He forced a smile. “Oh! That’s fine! See you in a bit, okay?” </p>
<p>“Yeah…” </p>
<p>Great. Bokuto wasn’t going to want to be his friend anymore. He was going to be lonely again. He always had to mess things up. At least he could put that on his resume: <em> Kuroo Tetsurou, professional mistake maker.</em></p>
<p>Kuroo sighed, brushing it off the best he could, and walked over to the Karasuno bus. Suga and Yaku were signing back and forth. </p>
<p>“Slacking off on the first day, Yaku? I expected more from you,” Kuroo shook his head mockingly. </p>
<p>Yaku’s eyes widened. He sighed <em> why are you here </em>with a glare. </p>
<p>“What do you mean, ‘Why am I here?’ I’m part of the Akaashi Keiji Fan Club! Of course I’m here!”</p>
<p>“The what?” Suga asked disdainfully. </p>
<p>“Like you haven’t heard of it, Sugawara-kun,” Kuroo held out his arm. “Need some help with your bag?”</p>
<p>“No, I think I’ve got it,” Suga pulled it closer to himself. “What’s gotten into you, Kuroo? Did you drink one of those energy drinks? I’ve heard that they’re pretty bad for you.” He let out a little gasp. “I just figured it out! Maybe that’s why you’ve grown so tall.” </p>
<p>“I don’t even like those.” </p>
<p>“Whatever you say,” Sugawara grinned mischievously. </p>
<p>“I’m going to go help unload,” Kuroo said. He went over to where bags were being lifted out of the bus. Most of the team members had already gotten their personal items and were milling about, shouting and chatting with their friends. </p>
<p>Only one person was still taking things out of the bus. Kuroo went over to him to offer assistance. He steeled himself. Talking to a stranger wasn’t <em> that </em> bad. Most of them didn’t know anything about him, and he could just walk away as soon as he got the bag. “Hey, man, I can get that one.” </p>
<p>The stranger turned around, handing it to him, and then paused, still as a stone statue. Kuroo followed the guy’s pale arms up to his face. </p>
<p>“T-Tsukki?” He took an uncertain step backwards. The old teammate looked almost as disgustingly shocked as he did, but he recovered faster. Tsukishima turned away with an unreadable look. </p>
<p>“Don’t call me that.” He walked away with stiff posture, fists clenched at his sides. </p>
<p>Kuroo wasn’t sure if he was breathing. </p>
<p>This was bad. Really bad. </p>
<p>Yaku noticed him standing there, and his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He tapped his right shoulder, the middle of his chest and then his left shoulder. </p>
<p>“Uh, yeah,” Kuroo lied. “Yeah. Would you mind showing me where this goes?” He extended to bag out for Yaku to see.</p>
<p>They walked through crowds of teenagers towards the facility building. It was strange to see the volleyball gym so crowded. Their school’s team was average sized, and even that felt like too many people sometimes. He felt dizzy imagining how many eyes were going to be on him, how many interactions he might mess up. What exactly had Kenma roped him into? </p>
<p>Kuroo wished he could be more like Yaku. Yaku always stood up tall, confident no matter what. He didn’t care about the people looking at him. But...but he didn't hear what awful things people said about him. Not like Kuroo. </p>
<p>They stepped into the cool, shady building. Yaku led him into a classroom next to the nurse’s office and took off his shoes. Kuroo realized Yaku was wearing cat socks. </p>
<p>“Are we sleeping here?” He asked, just signing the word sleep. Yaku nodded, opening up a musty closet full of futons. It was so...quiet in here. Kuroo was half-sure a ghost was going to pop out at him. He couldn’t call it peaceful, because it was unsettling. He couldn’t relax, because he had just seen Tsukishima. He was just trapped in the dark, stale air. </p>
<p>Yaku set up the futons in a perfect rectangle. “Looks good,” Kuroo offered his hand out for Yaku to high-five. He returned it, and Kuroo wished, wished, <em> wished </em> that he had done that back when it mattered. Back when they were all learning how to be a team in Elementary School. </p>
<p>Yaku frowned at him, recognizing something in his expression. Kuroo struggled to come up with something else. “Uh, Yakkun, your ear.” He pointed at his own. “Do you not have to wear a hearing aid in it anymore?” </p>
<p>Yaku flinched the slightest bit. Reminded of what happened last time he had asked about hearing aids, Kuroo backtracked. “It looks totally fine! You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, that is!” </p>
<p>He was saved by the sound of the door opening. </p>
<p>“Whaaaa! I’ve never gotten to go behind the desk before!” </p>
<p>“It’s not a big deal.” </p>
<p>Kenma and Bokuto peered into the room. </p>
<p>“Thank goodness,” Kenma sighed, slumping onto the first futon. “I’m so tired.”</p>
<p>“You didn’t even carry anything!” </p>
<p>“So? I’m sweating anyway.” Yaku bent down to take off Kenma’s shoes. He kicked his leg lazily at him. “Stop it, <em> Mom</em>.” </p>
<p>“Hey, man, I’m sorry about earlier,” Kuroo turned to Bokuto with his best smile. </p>
<p>Bokuto tilted his head sideways. “Oh! No worries. I forgot about it anyway.” </p>
<p>He <em> forgot </em>about it? Kuroo wasn’t even sure how to approach this now. </p>
<p>“Did...you talk to Akaashi?” </p>
<p>Bokuto wilted. “No. Oikawa-san made me carry his bag, though.” Kuroo made a face. “Yeah.” Bokuto lowered his voice and leaned in conspiringly. “I <em> totally </em> get why you didn’t want to come help Fukurodani. Did you get any alone time with Yakkun over there?” Kuroo thought about how he had basically insulted Yaku a minute ago. </p>
<p>“Not really.”</p>
<p>Kuroo watched as Yaku left with the extra futons. He was so responsible. Kuroo wanted to be like that. </p>
<p>“Man, a dark room? Just you guys? Why didn’t you take the chance?” </p>
<p>“I’m not sure I understand what you're implying.” </p>
<p>“Since Kenma isn’t dating him, he’s free!”</p>
<p>“Hang on,” Kenma looked up from his camera with a peeved expression. “There is no way I’m letting that..that nonplayer character S-Support Morisuke! My cousin is a conflicted prince, he doesn’t need romance in his life.” </p>
<p>“Kuroo’s a great guy, so don’t you dare talk about him like that! I don’t know much about video games, but I know that Kuroo’s a protagonist for sure!” Bokuto shook Kuroo’s shoulder back and forth. Kenma looked surprised. His eyes flickered over to Kuroo. </p>
<p>
  <em> Bokuto didn’t know. He had no idea. </em>
</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“Are you okay?” Bokuto watched as his friend turned around 180 degrees, sporting a deer-in-the-headlights look. Wide eyes, tense shoulders, and a nervous expression. It didn’t suit him. </p>
<p>“Yeah. Yeah, totally.”</p>
<p>“You could trick the police with lying skills that good,” Kenma remarked sarcastically. He tried to eat and type with his thumb at the same time. Bokuto watched as the rice <em> he cooked </em> fell on the table. </p>
<p>“Hey! Watch what you’re doing!”</p>
<p>“It’s just rice. It doesn’t even matter-“ Kenma watched in horror as Kuroo reached across the table and grabbed his phone. “Stop!”</p>
<p>“Just eat,” Kuroo glanced down at the screen. “Hang on. Why are you texting my brother?!”</p>
<p>“He wanted to know how the camp was going. Maybe if you started texting him more often, he’d stop running to me.” </p>
<p>“Take that back.” </p>
<p>Bokuto waited for Yaku to interfere, but he was busy staring out one of the staff room’s few windows. He looked exhausted. Alright! That left it to be Bokuto’s duty. </p>
<p>“Look, everyone’s friends with Shouyou-kun. Can’t we just, I don’t know, bond about it or something?” Kenma nodded reluctantly. </p>
<p>“You’re right. Shouyou’s a true protagonist. He makes friends wherever he goes.”</p>
<p>“Kuroo. Are you listening?”</p>
<p>“Uh. Shouyou...Shouyou something about friends?” </p>
<p>“What are you looking at?” Bokuto stood up to follow Kuroo’s gaze. </p>
<p>“Everyone’s looking! Stop that!” Kuroo grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down into his seat.</p>
<p>“Is it Glasses-kun?” Bokuto asked eagerly. </p>
<p>“People can hear you, you know,” Kuroo hissed. </p>
<p>“So? That doesn’t matter.”</p>
<p>“Yes, it does,” He insisted, leaning forward to comb a hand through his hair.</p>
<p>“He’s right,” Kenma spoke up. “Only Kings like attention. Kuro, can I have my phone back now?”</p>
<p>“Guess that makes me a king!” Bokuto crossed his arms, grinning.</p>
<p>“You are not a king,” Kenma scoffed.</p>
<p>“What am I, then?” </p>
<p>“A human. A third year. An...an idiot, honestly.”</p>
<p>“I am not!” </p>
<p>Kuroo didn’t even come to his defense. </p>
<p>“Dude, what are you doing? Glasses-kun over there isn’t going to look back here just because you’re staring at him.”</p>
<p>“Actually, people can sense when eyes are burning into them. I know from personal experience.” Kuroo turned back towards their table. “Listen, I...know that guy from a while back, but he’s pretending not to notice me. Earlier, he switched serving lines just so he didn’t have to talk to me,” Kuroo paused. “Speaking of which, I’m doing the dishes next time.”</p>
<p>“But it was my turn to do them on the list!”</p>
<p>“Bro, please. All those strangers staring at you, <em> waiting</em>. It’s too much.” </p>
<p>“Come on. You’ll get a break during lunch on Sunday,” Bokuto stuck out his lip.</p>
<p>“It’s a chance to talk to Akaashi. <em> In </em> the morning!”</p>
<p>Bokuto sighed, contemplatively. Kuroo knew he was head over heels for the blue-eyed boy, and of course his scheming friend exploited it as much as he could. “Fine,” he relented, since he was a good friend. </p>
<p>“Next time you do something annoying, I’ll just use that method,” Kenma declared. “The Akaashi Method! Right, Morisuke?” </p>
<p>All three heads turned to look at said boy. He hadn’t heard. His brown eyes had a glazed-over look. It didn’t fit what Bokuto knew about him. Yakkun was a bright kid, and one of the few friends Kuroo had other than Bokuto. He seemed to matter a lot to Kuroo, so Bokuto tried to be as encouraging as he could.</p>
<p>Yaku snapped out of it. He wiggled his pointer finger back and forth with an expectant expression. </p>
<p>“Why don’t you go say hi to Noya?” Kenma started pushing Yaku out of his seat. “He’s over there with his team. Go say say hi, Morisuke.” Kenma followed his cousin with worried eyes as he wandered over to one of the crowded tables.</p>
<p>“Is Yakkun okay?” Bokuto asked, concerned.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Probably just tired,” Kenma sent Kuroo a pointed look. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Kuroo woke up to a shiny moon beam cutting through the window. The dark pressed down like a blanket, trying to lull him back to his dreams. In a sleepy daze, he almost didn’t notice it. </p>
<p>But it was the faintest gasp, a hiccup in the silence, and he couldn’t ignore it if he tried. </p>
<p>Someone was crying. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>
  <em> “I just want to make sure Yaku never cries again. Please let me fix this, Kenma-kun.”</em>
</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“So,” Kuroo cornered Kenma in the hall. “When were you going to tell me something was wrong with Yakkun?”</p>
<p>“Wow, and it only took you 24 hours,” Kenma replied coolly. </p>
<p>“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kuroo repeated, gritting his teeth. Early morning light fluttered through the wide school windows and made Kenma and his button-like nose look younger. They had to wake up way earlier than most of the volleyball teams to prepare breakfast, but it didn’t matter to Kuroo. The morning haze had disappeared the moment he opened his eyes. </p>
<p>Kenma ducked around his arm, clenching the towel in his hand. “I don’t know if <em> you </em> remember, but I recall an ignorant black-haired kid making my cousin’s life a living nightmare.”</p>
<p>Kuroo felt like he was on fire. “What the hell, Kenma?!”</p>
<p>“I’m the one who woke up this morning, exhausted, only to have <em> your </em> bed head yelling at me about social cues he should have picked up on years ago!” </p>
<p>“I expected Yaku to tell me if something was wrong! Why did you just assume I’d know?!” </p>
<p>“I tried telling you!” Kenma shouted. The words echoed against the ceiling. “I tried, but you were distracted by that blonde kid the whole time!” His voice trembled. “I tried. I’m trying.” </p>
<p>Kuroo ran a hand through his wild hair, thinking of Tsukishima. “I...Shoot, I need to fix this.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, you do.” Kenma turned around and marched down the hall, not offering an inch of help. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Akaashi watched Oikawa-san goof off one line over. He got everyone to laugh along with him, or at the very least <em> at </em> him. Akaashi wished he could do that. He never had any good jokes. </p>
<p>“Akaashi, here’s your Tamago Kake Gohan!” Bokuto beamed like a bright star when Akaashi looked up and nodded at him in thanks. “Uh, I made sure that all the Fukurodani jugs got the coldest water this morning!”</p>
<p>“Thank you.”</p>
<p>“And I wrote your name on the water bottle in my neatest handwriting, too!” </p>
<p>What? Was he trying to apologize for what he said two weeks ago? It was certainly an odd way of doing it. “That’s very considerate.”</p>
<p>“Do your best!” Bokuto shouted enthusiastically. The whole cafeteria stared at them, including his senpais. He nodded uncomfortably and made a beeline for the team’s table. </p>
<p>“Aw, got a fan?” Oikawa-san teased when he sat down. Akaashi didn’t appreciate it. </p>
<p>“Yes, I do. He’s very supportive.”</p>
<p>“Oh, sorry, Aka-chan, I didn’t realize it was so serious.”</p>
<p>“Trashy-kawa, jealousy doesn’t look good on you.” </p>
<p>“Everything looks good on me!” </p>
<p>That wasn’t the end of it. Bokuto kept singling out Akaashi every time he got put in to play, or when they had watermelon for a snack, and even when he messed up plays. He kept cheering for him, and it was worse because <em> everyone saw </em> , and <em> everyone knew </em>, and Akaashi didn’t know how to deal with him being so close. At least at normal practice, he was on the hill, distracted and distanced enough that Akaashi’s heart beat normally. </p>
<p>The worst moment was when Coach was passing out water bottles, and he asked, in front of the whole team, who ‘Meet me at the hill when it gets dark,’ was. And then, to make it worse, he said, plainly, ‘Oh, Akaashi.’ Akaashi had almost screamed. It was awful. It was torture. </p>
<p>But kind of...endearing. </p>
<p>The first time he and Bokuto met, it was gray outside. Akaashi remembered because there was a huge window in the funeral home. A tiny trail of smoke curled up towards the ceiling, and the footsteps of a boy with a suit too large for him followed. Watery-eyed Bokuto had handed him a white and black envelope, claiming he was too scared to give it to the grownups. </p>
<p>Keiji asked him his name; He said Akaashi-san had been his best friend. </p>
<p><em> Had been. </em> </p>
<p>And then he’d asked, “Why aren’t you crying?”</p>
<p>Why aren’t you crying, Akaashi?</p>
<p>Why? Why?! <em> Why?! </em> He asked himself over and over, and yet he didn’t know, could never figure out, <em> why? <br/></em></p>
<p>Why was Bokuto so nice to him?</p>
<p>Akaashi couldn’t be angry at Bokuto. Not in a million years, not if he embarrassed him in front of the whole school, even not if he burned the world and the flames reflected in his golden eyes. It was impossible to dislike someone who’s only friend had been Akaashi’s deceased Grandmother. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Kuroo watched in astonishment as Oikawa’s serve shot over the net and hit the court with an intimidating ‘blam!’ He regretted making fun of him now. There was no other way to phrase it: Oikawa’s serve was horrifying. </p>
<p>He flipped the five over. From the other side of the scoreboard, Yaku glared at him. Currently the score was 16:13, and Kuroo felt like he was winning despite not having hit a single ball. Being score keeper was only half as bad as having to serve the food. At least most of the team members were focused on the game instead of him. </p>
<p>Yaku seemed to be in a good, if slightly irritable, mood. He and Noya kept signing to each other in between points, grinning secret, short people grins. The morning brought out the best in everyone, and Kuroo figured he had been worried over nothing. After all, Yaku hadn’t brought it up once. </p>
<p>Still...Kenma wasn’t talking to him, and that was a bummer. </p>
<p>Tsukishima had been completely ignoring him. Kuroo was still debating over if that was a good thing or a bad one. Things were complicated with him, and Kuroo wasn’t sure how to bring it up without starting something messy. </p>
<p>Yaku tapped on his shoulder, saving him from the tunneling thoughts. “What?” </p>
<p>“Kuro-chan, are you trying to deprive my team of points? Such underhanded tactics!” </p>
<p>Kuroo quickly flipped the six over, wishing Oikawa the worst. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“Nice one, Morisuke-kun!” Nishinoya shouted, sending a thumbs up towards his friend. His heart was beating fast, cheeks flushed as he bent down to pick up some of the scattered volleyballs. Adrenaline pumped in his blood, and his legs ached satisfyingly. </p>
<p>It was a tradition they had, to practice receiving every night of training camp until neither of them could move. Last year they had done it, they’d gotten a back-and-forth record of forty two. Nishinoya was determined to get to at least sixty this year. </p>
<p>Even under the artificial golden light of the extra gym, Noya could see how pumped Morisuke was. He had brushed off everything to come play, even Kenma. </p>
<p>“Want to take a water break?” Noya asked, looking longingly over at their pair of plastic bottles. Morisuke started shaking his head, but then he caught Noya’s expression and relented. </p>
<p>Noya drowned the water, watching Yaku take a tiny sip. Shadows from the navy-colored night slipped through the windows. Shouts from outside leaked into the gym. </p>
<p>Despite what other people thought, Noya didn’t mind the quiet, not if it was Morisuke. Morisuke was different. Quiet in a good way, in a fire-filled, talented way. Noya didn’t care if other people hadn’t noticed yet. He knew, and they were enough. </p>
<p>He grinned eagerly. “Think we can reach seventy-”</p>
<p>“Yakkun?” </p>
<p>Noya nearly threw his water bottle at the ground. </p>
<p>Stupid Rooster Head. </p>
<p>“What is it?” He called, shoving his water into Morisuke’s other hand. “What do you want?” </p>
<p>Aggressive? Yes. Did he deserve it? Totally. Rooster Head was a tricky, unfairly tall dude. Kenma had complained all about him showing up the first time, claiming that he brought bread and an awful attitude. When Noya had asked how Yaku knew him, Morisuke had replied with the sign for ‘Elementary.’</p>
<p>Elementary, as in Elementary School, was a taboo word, according to Kenma. </p>
<p>Basically, Kuroo was a jerk and obviously trying to push himself upon Yaku. </p>
<p>At least Nishinoya’s menacing tactics seemed to be working. Kuroo was avoiding his eyes like the plague. </p>
<p>“I was just coming to let you guys know it’s getting really late. Aren’t you tired?” </p>
<p>“No! Of course we’re not!” Noya looked over to Yaku, who shrugged, looking confused.  </p>
<p>“It’s almost 9:30. I’m...kind of worried about…” Kuroo trailed off, not willing to just name Yaku. </p>
<p>Afraid to offend?</p>
<p>“Look,” Noya crossed his arms intimidatingly. “Morisuke-kun’s my best friend. If you think I don’t watch out for him, you might as well be the worst person I know!” </p>
<p>“I never said that. I was just...checking to make sure both of you are okay!” A few distracting moths fluttered past his head and into the gym. </p>
<p>“Well, are you done?” Noya pressed, not even bothering to listen to his hasty excuses. “Great. Bye, buddy.” </p>
<p>Kuroo slumped, looking miserable. “Yeah, see ya.” </p>
<p>When he finally left, Noya let out a breath. Thank goodness. Barely anyone really got intimidated by him unless he impressed them with a receive or something. Luckily, that guy had bought the whole act. He really was becoming scarier! </p>
<p>Nishinoya grinned. Morisuke observed him curiously. “Don’t worry about him, Morisuke-kun! Let’s play volleyball until our arms fall off, okay?!” Noya pushed the cart towards him for emphasis. </p>
<p>Yaku glared at it with a scary determination. He met Noya’s eyes and nodded. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“Bokuto-san, what did we say about sitting on the hill?” </p>
<p>“Not too?”</p>
<p>“And what are you doing?” Akaashi was already climbing up to sit next to him. He pulled his knees closer to his chin. Nights were cooler in late spring, and this was no exception. </p>
<p>“...Sitting on it?” Bokuto tilted his head and smiled uncertainly. </p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“It’s fine! I sit up here all the time!”</p>
<p>“That’s precisely why I’m telling you to stop.”</p>
<p>“What’s ‘precisely?’”</p>
<p>“Exactly. Without a doubt. Um...on the dot?”</p>
<p>“That’s ‘on the dot’ why I’m telling you to stop!”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>Bokuto let out a huff. “Why do you mean, ‘No?’ I’m using it how you explained it!”</p>
<p>“Grammar doesn’t work like that.”</p>
<p>“Well, grammar sounds like a drag!”</p>
<p>“I can see where you’re coming from,” Akaashi watched as one of the gym lights flickered on and off like a lightning bug. Tokyo was still loud in the nighttime. </p>
<p>“So, ‘Kaashi, did you <em> precisely </em> receive my message to meet me here?”</p>
<p>Akaashi had known Bokuto since he was a first year in Junior High. Despite miscommunication, arguments, mood swings, and the fact that they were in this odd dimension between strangers and best friends and something sweeter, they had never had a conversation about the word ‘precisely.’ </p>
<p>“Yes. In front of the whole team.” </p>
<p>“Oh! That means everyone knows, right?” </p>
<p>Akaashi frowned. “Yes.”</p>
<p>“Do you like having people’s attention, Akaashi?”</p>
<p>“Hmm...I guess not particularly.” He didn’t like it, when it boiled down to embarrassing things or mistakes. He didn’t enjoy it, not like how Oikawa soaked in the enraptured eyes watching him. “Why?”</p>
<p>“I guess that means you’re not a king,” Bokuto let out a frustrated hum. “Wait, I got it! I bet you’re better than a king! A-A world!”</p>
<p>“A whole world?!” Akaashi’s eyes widened involuntarily. </p>
<p>“Yeah!” </p>
<p>“A world, huh,” Akaashi trailed off, staring at the black silhouettes of tall trees. “Was there something you wanted to talk about, Bokuto-san?”</p>
<p>“Uh, yeah!” Bokuto clapped his hands together once. “Listen real close! Akaashi Keiji, you know I say things without thinking all the time. I’m <em> precisely </em> sorry for insulting you a while back! Please forgive me and, also, let’s be friends!”</p>
<p>“What, you don’t already consider us friends?” Akaashi teased. </p>
<p>“Uh…” Bokuto’s exaggerated expression was amusing. </p>
<p>“And you used the word precisely wrong again.”</p>
<p>“What? How?” He groaned and flopped backwards. Akaashi copied him, turning on his side so he could see the slope of Bokuto’s nose and his dark eyelashes above the spiky grass. </p>
<p>“Not understanding the word is precisely the reason you should stop trying to use it in day-to-day sentences for a while.” </p>
<p>“On the dot!” Bokuto shouted over him. “I’ll just use ‘on the dot!’”</p>
<p>“Do you actually want us to be friends?” Akaashi whispered. </p>
<p>“Of course,” Bokuto assured him. “And not just because you...you know...” </p>
<p>“Mm,” Akaashi shut his eyes. </p>
<p>“Akaashi, I was hoping we would see the stars, but none came out today.” He didn’t bother telling Bokuto it was all the light pollution that kept them away. “We can make wishes on the moon instead!”</p>
<p>“Okay.”</p>
<p>“I wish you to bless Kuroo with less nervous feelings!”</p>
<p>“Bokuto-san, it…” <em> Can’t hear you. </em>Why if the moon did, somehow? They were all made of space dust, right? “Well, I wish for us to win nationals this year.”</p>
<p>“It doesn’t work if your eyes are closed! Wake up!” Bokuto reached forward and stroked Akaashi’s forehead with his thumb, trying fruitlessly to get him to open his eyes. </p>
<p>Akaashi’s pulled his hand off. “I am.” It was so dark he could hardly make out anything, but there the moon was, a glowing, white fingernail in the sky.  </p>
<p>“Okay! My turn again! I wish to find an owl someday and adopt it as a Bokuto!”</p>
<p>“I wish for unlimited onigiri.” </p>
<p>They kept making frivolous wishes (including ‘I wish to use the word precisely correctly.’) It was all fun and games until Bokuto’s next wish cut straight into something they had been tiptoeing around. </p>
<p>“I wish Akaashi and I’d met somewhere else!”</p>
<p>“Bokuto-san…” Akaashi sat up, suddenly not feeling so good. “Bokuto-san, why?”</p>
<p>“You’re avoiding it! If we just talked about it, just like how we’ve been hanging out more lately, maybe-”</p>
<p>“No, stop! Stop,” Akaashi interrupted. Maybe it was the night that got him worked up. Maybe under the sun, he would remain calm. Maybe in the rain, he’d be himself again. </p>
<p>But it was the night, and so his heart pounded in his ears. </p>
<p>“Just listen! Please, hear me out, for real!”</p>
<p>“Hear you out? Why should I?” </p>
<p>“Akaashi, what do you mean?” </p>
<p>“The funeral,” He choked out. </p>
<p>
  <em> Why aren’t you crying?</em>
</p>
<p>“No,” Bokuto protested. </p>
<p>“My grandmother?” Akaashi insisted. “You’re being...You’re being nice to me because you feel like you...you owe her it, right?”</p>
<p>“Why would you think that? Is that why you’ve been ignoring me this year and last?</p>
<p>“Why?” Akaashi repeated incredulously. “You...You’re just being kind?”</p>
<p>“Of course!” </p>
<p>“And you actually want to be friends?” </p>
<p>“Yes. Yes, Akaashi! I’ve been telling you that!” </p>
<p>Akaashi’s hands were still trembling. “Even though I...I’m boring?”</p>
<p>Bokuto said nothing. He wasn’t looking at the sky anymore. Akaashi squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to vanish. He had scribbled thick black sharpie over everything.</p>
<p>“Every...” It was the softest voice Akaashi had ever heard come from him. It was a whisper above the quiet moon. “Everyone around me is trying to change. But I don’t want you to change. I like you how you are.” </p>
<p>
  <em> Even if I don’t laugh?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Even if I’m never as good as Oikawa?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Even if I lose all the time?</em>
</p>
<p>All the ‘evens’ piled up like rocks until he might as well be pulled down to Earth by gravity. </p>
<p>“Are you crying, Akaashi?” </p>
<p>“I-I don’t know!” Akaashi sniffed, reaching up to wipe the warm tears away with his shirt collar.</p>
<p>“It’s okay. My mom said everyone needs to cry sometimes!”</p>
<p>Akaashi shook his head back and forth, upset with himself. </p>
<p>“Cheer up! Just...uh, just make a wish!”</p>
<p>Akaashi glanced towards the offensive crescent. “I thought it was your turn.”</p>
<p>“You can use my wish! Make it good, please!” Bokuto closed his eyes in anticipation. “The first wish of understanding! The wish of clear communication! The <em> precisely </em> honest wish!”</p>
<p>Stacked up against all the nicknames, Akaashi’s wish seemed small, but, well…</p>
<p>“I wish,” He lowered his voice to a murmur. “I wish for us to hold hands. Please,” He added for good luck. </p>
<p>Bokuto’s warm hand found his. Akaashi intertwined their fingers, and he <em> breathed.</em></p>
<p>*</p>
<p>It was Sunday morning, and the heat hadn’t set in yet. The wide doors in the main gym were open, letting the wind blow through. </p>
<p>Kenma stared at Morisuke, who was busy pulling down nets a few feet away. He walked over to him and stretched out a hand. “Here. I’ll help.” </p>
<p>Morisuke reluctantly handed him the other end, and they started folding it. He was glaring at Kenma, like he knew what was about to go down. “I heard you got sick last night. Threw up and everything.” He moved the net to one hand so he could sign. </p>
<p>Morisuke yanked the volleyball net towards himself. Kenma stumbled, letting go. He sprinted after Yaku into the dark storage closet. “Morisuke, I asked you not to play that...game thing...with Noya anymore.” </p>
<p>Yaku put the net on one of the shelves. Then he faced both his palms towards his chest and moved them up and down. </p>
<p>“There’s no way it’s fun. It’s like a torture method they use in medieval RPGs!” Yaku squinted at him. “I don’t know why you’ve been acting like this,” Kenma said, speaking slower, “but it has to stop. I’m…”</p>
<p>
  <em> Scared. </em>
</p>
<p>Morisuke was angry, and when he was angry, he got reckless. When he got reckless, he did stupid things, and it took everything to distract him from it. Kenma couldn’t find a magnetic force strong enough to pull him away from those feelings. Kuroo wasn’t helping at all, and Kenma was so desperate, he decided to cut to the chase. </p>
<p>“I feel like you’re punishing yourself for no reason, and I don't understand why.” </p>
<p>Morisuke pointed to himself, and then tapped his left and right shoulder. </p>
<p><em> You aren’t fine. You aren’t. </em>Kenma wanted to insist, to argue, to get upset, but he was never good at confronting his cousin. He had to find other ways. “If you say so. Want to see some pictures I took?” Smashed bugs. Wilted flowers. Dead frogs. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“Hey, man, can you go check the last gym? Everyone’s leaving, and I really want to say bye to Akaashi!” Bokuto handed him the keys. They had been locking everything up after a (Kuroo assumed) successful weekend of training camp. Really, most of the volleyball practice had taken place on Saturday. </p>
<p>“Go for it,” Kuroo patted him on the back. His friend sprinted off towards the buses and check-out area. He walked the other way, towards the Nishinoya gym (as he had dubbed it.)</p>
<p>Kuroo peeked into the gym, expecting nothing, and was startled to see Yaku there. He took a nervous step backwards and hid behind the door. He watched as Yaku practiced serve after serve. The atmosphere was tense, and Kuroo wasn’t sure if he meant to hit it so aggressively. </p>
<p>“Spying on people?” </p>
<p>Kuroo flinched, turning around in surprise. “Tsukishima?”</p>
<p>“Long time no see, Kuroo.” </p>
<p>“Huh? L-Long time no see.” </p>
<p>Once Tsukki realized Kuroo wasn’t going to say anything else, he leaned over to see through the door. “Isn’t that Yaku?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” </p>
<p>“<em>Still all alone.</em>” Tsukishima nearly sang the words. He paused. “You know, Kuroo, it actually has been a long time. We should hang out. Tell me all about what you’ve been doing for the past years.”</p>
<p>Did he seriously think Kuroo would be willing to do that after he ignored him all weekend? </p>
<p>“No thanks.” </p>
<p>“Kuroo. Do you hate me?”</p>
<p>What type of question was that? “Not really.”</p>
<p>Tsukishima rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve always thought I should have talked to you more back in elementary school.” He smiled, but it didn’t seem genuine. “But it’s not like it was that big of a deal.” </p>
<p>Kuroo froze. His next sentence came out cold. “Isn’t it about time for your team to leave?”</p>
<p>Tsukki’s arm dropped to his side. </p>
<p>“Well, see you around,” Kuroo stepped past him and into the gym, twirling the key in his finger. </p>
<p>“Yeah.” </p>
<p>He had almost gotten to Yaku when Tsukishima ran past him. </p>
<p>“Tsukishima!” Kuroo shouted, but he was too far away to stop him from grabbing the hearing aid.</p>
<p>“Only one?” He muttered. </p>
<p>“Tsukishima, what are you doing?” Kuroo demanded. </p>
<p>Yaku was looking at them with wide eyes. Kuroo moved to stand between them. </p>
<p>“I was going to toss it around. Like how you used to for fun.” The weight of it hit Kuroo all at once. Tsukishima hadn’t changed. He hadn’t felt bad, hadn’t suffered with thoughts of his actions, not like Kuroo had. </p>
<p>He still didn’t realize how wrong he was acting. </p>
<p>Kuroo grabbed it from his hand and handed it back to Yaku. “I’m so sorry, Yakkun.” He brought his hand up to his forehead to sign. </p>
<p>Yaku tried to take it back, but Tsukki didn’t give him the chance. “No way!” He held it near his head. “Don’t tell me you two actually get along?” </p>
<p>“Yes. We’re...We’re friends.”</p>
<p>“Friends?” He scoffed, like all of Kuroo's hard work was just a joke to him. “You can’t be friends with someone you bullied!”</p>
<p>Kuroo clenched his fists. </p>
<p>“Why, is it because of guilt or something?” </p>
<p>“No.” Not anymore. It wasn't about that anymore. </p>
<p>“What has gotten into you, Kuroo?” Tsukishima’s eyes were wide, and he smirked like this whole situation was the funniest thing ever. “No cunning jokes? No sly expression? You’re no fun at all anymore!” </p>
<p>“Give the hearing aid back,” Kuroo demanded, done with the games. Tsukki tossed it lazily, and Yaku stumbled forward to catch it in his cupped hands. </p>
<p>“Well, I’ll leave you to your fake friendship! Enjoy it!” He walked out of the gym with a self-satisfied grin. It was irritating. </p>
<p>Yaku tugged on his arm. He put his right arm up like a sling and moved his left hand inside it, before wiggling his pointer finger in the familiar sign. </p>
<p>“What were we talking about?” Kuroo shook his head, unwilling to tell him. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just clean up, okay?” He smiled at him reassuringly. The dust had settled. It was the calm after the storm. </p>
<p>Yaku tilted his head and smiled back. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. jmp (var)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kuroo feeds the fish with Yaku again. Kenma hangs out with Shouyou. Bokuto and Akaashi struggle to study for exams. Iwaizumi talks to Kuroo.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Kemma!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma pulled the covers over his face, ignoring his cousin’s eager voice. He could almost chalk this up to being a sweet dream, except it was definitely Morisuke’s voice trying to stir him awake. Before he could stew over it any longer, a warm weight was dropped onto his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morming!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled the sheet away from his chest to look at their kitty and then at Morisuke, who was grinning. “Stop using Riko-chan to wake me up before 9 a.m.” Kenma sat up. His cousin was already dressed and looked pumped for the day. He started leaving. “Wait, wait!” Morisuke tilted his head a little. “Why are you in such a good mood?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Especially since you looked ready to burn the world down a few days ago,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but that part went unsaid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku’s hand started involuntarily drifting up to his hearing aid, before he fixed it on his hip and forced a frown on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Caught yourself just in time, huh?” Kenma pulled Riko-chan into his lap. She started wiggling around. “What happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Traiming Camp,” Yaku admitted, grabbing their struggling cat and racing off before Kenma could ask anything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Training Camp? Hadn’t that been a disaster?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morisuke,” Kenma said in realization, knowing fully well his cousin couldn’t hear him. “Morisuke, get back here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was good. He had wanted Morisuke to feel better. Yet this...this was like going from sea level to the Himalayan Mountains. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo, you...you insufferable, permanent nonplayer character. Kenma hated him and his good intentions. He pulled out his phone and texted, ominously: </span>
  <em>
    <span>What did you do on Sunday.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Kuro &gt;:(</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>????? Also you’re missing one of these: ?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Kuro &gt;:(</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The period was on purpose. Did you scare Morisuke into smiling?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Kuro &gt;:(</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I would never ;)</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Kuro &gt;:(</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>You’re dead</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma was smiling so hard that he had to shove his face into his pillow. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Kuro &gt;:(</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Does this mean you’re not mad anymore???</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Kuro &gt;:(</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shouyou is still my favorite Kuroo. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma sighed, flopping onto his back, feeling strange and lighter. Kuroo had gone from hated to reluctantly accepted to hated to redeemable. Kenma had been so sure Kuroo had broken their alliance yesterday, but somehow he’d managed to do this whole ‘cheer-Morisuke-up’ thing behind his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was annoying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma was used to being the only one looking out for his cousin. But here Kuroo was. Almost acceptable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t relax, not yet. Still, with the morning sun fluttering through the shutters, it felt like taking a breath of pure oxygen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A break from suffocating. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...And since then, Akaashi has been a beautiful stone statue!” Bokuto finished enthusiastically. “Oh! Except for this one time when we were playing a board game. He got really competitive!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh...So are you dating him or...not?” Kuroo changed course at Bokuto’s expression. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” He shrugged, still smiling. It looked painful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry. He’ll come around. Just look up some pick-up lines or something.” Kuroo reached forward to pat his best friend’s back. “I wish you had told me that when we started the Fan Club. I expected something was up between you two, but meeting at a funeral? I’m surprised neither of you are vampires.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter! Everything’s so great right now!” Bokuto laid backwards on the hill. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s weird,” Kuroo added. But seriously, things had been going well. Shouyou was more relaxed, Yakkun was happy, apparently, and Kenma had even gotten back on good terms with him. It was the best he had felt since...since his dad left. Even time before elementary school felt worse than this sunny euphoria. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who cares! Summer break is coming up soon! Let’s go somewhere fun together, okay?” Bokuto turned to look at him with flushed cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you don’t overheat first,” Kuroo teased. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not my fault the weather is getting like this!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san, get down here,” Akaashi called. “We’re leaving.” Bokuto flew onto his feet. Kuroo followed, suddenly nervous. His best friend had promised to officially introduce him to Akaashi Keiji today. While it was bad enough to suffer through an awkward introduction, it was even worse when it was someone who you were part of a self-proclaimed fan club for. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Argh, thinking of it just made it sound worse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So far, so good, though. Bokuto was talking up a storm, guestering between them excitedly. Should he do something? Maybe he should do something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo waved awkwardly. Akaashi bowed in response. Great. He was polite </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> handsome. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nice to meet you, Kuroo-san. Trust me when I say half of Bokuto-san and I’s conversations revolve around you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akaashi! You can’t just tell him that!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not? It’s true.” They started bickering. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kuro-chan, how come it’s always you I see watching practice?” Oikawa strutted over to them, hand on his hip. “Got a secret crush?” He winked, but Kuroo was quick to avoid his eyes. He wasn’t wearing glasses, which meant there was </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> barrier at all between his knowing expression and Kuroo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Oikawa-san, I asked them to show up. They’re my friends.” Akaashi was officially an angel for saving him like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aka-chan’s friends? Aw, Kuroo, you weren’t thinking about joining the team?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not really,” Kuroo admitted. Playing volleyball reminded him of a lot of things, and only recently had he started associating any good memories with it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if you want to, we have spots available. We let anyone in, no matter how bad or behind you are…I wouldn’t mind playing with you again, you know.” Oikawa was gone before Kuroo could look up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morisuke sighed, tugging his school bag closer. He had been stuck thinking about Kuroo all day, even when he fought it. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he was so used to feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>other</span>
  </em>
  <span> things that it left him with a strange giddy feeling. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku was always honest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew he didn’t deserve Kuroo, and that he’d end up dragging him down just like he did to Kenma, on purpose or otherwise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a while, Morisuke had been sure it was the other way around. Kuroo was the offender, and Yaku was the one pulling him out of the river. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yaku</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the one who had the right to be angry. It was a solid reason, like a rock in the middle of a tornado, that saved him when he felt frustrated for no good excuse for feeling so upset all time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then they found Suga. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was the train. And that stupid smirk tinted by the sunset. Suddenly, Yaku wasn’t sure. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He would have been fine if it wasn’t for training camp and Tsukishima. Miserable, but fine. He didn’t know exactly what had happened, but he could read expressions like they were basic Japanese. Kuroo’s smile was sweeter than mochi, and Yaku hated himself for thinking it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku was saved by the swish of air that alerted him that the train doors opened. He always had to be super careful on the train. First, there was tracking the stops, which was the most important step. He usually counted on his fingers, just to be sure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was also paying attention to the people around him. In the past, strangers had asked him to scoot forward, but he hadn’t heard them. Avoiding that saved him grief. Being careful always won. Unfortunately, it was something he tended to fail at. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morisuke stepped off the train into the crowd. The giddy feeling came back, and he frowned, trying to shove it back down. The only other time he’d felt like this was the first and last time he joined a volleyball team. Yaku had been so ready to show off, to relate through the sport in ways that he normally fell short in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ultimately, it had been his fault that it crumbled at his feet along with everything in his life at that time. There was a reason he hated the number six. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook the memories away, focusing instead on his shopping. Morisuke knew exactly what he wanted to buy today. Keychains.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His dad had a keychain, and his mom too, but they had gotten thrown away. Phone charms were the best. No one really noticed them, yet the person still knew it was there. Yaku always noticed tiny details; it helped him understand the situation. He was giving Kuroo the benefit of the doubt and assuming that he noticed those things as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morisuke entered the store and made a beeline towards the back. There they were: shiny, but dull, basic, but important. Yaku bit his lip to force the feelings down. He had to choose one that really mattered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo. What was Kuroo?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A well-intentioned jerk? No. Well, yes, but…that didn’t give him anything to work with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why was he even buying this for him? The Tsukishima thing, sure. Taking a step back, though, it was more than just because he was grateful. The awful, deniable, hated, honest reason? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He liked Kuroo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo had helped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo had tried to fix things. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo showed up just in time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku figured out what keychain he wanted to buy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Yakkun</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fish feeding at 6:30 on Tuesday. I better see you there! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo smiled down at his phone. He had been texting Yaku more, mostly just silly things. It was nice, in a quiet way. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Yakkun</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Will come! Do I need to bring bread?</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Yakkun</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. We have too much. Kenma can buy more if we need it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Yakkun</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sounds good. See you later! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Yakkun</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Later.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo showed up, riding his bike, two minutes early, just in case. Yaku was pacing around the bridge with a tense look. He jammed his thumb down on his phone, comically angry. Kuroo biked a little closer, and Yaku chose that moment to look up and meet his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He always looked good in late afternoon lighting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo waved in a way in his nervous way that he figured he might as well trademark by now. Yaku quickly hid his phone behind his back, brown eyes wide and mouth pressed into a wobbly line. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is Kenma coming?” He asked, looking behind Yaku, who flinched and stumbled backwards. The slouchy boy was nowhere to be seen. “Is that bread?” He pointed to the bag Yaku was holding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mm-hm,” He shook his head back and forth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do I need to buy some then?” Kuroo balanced on his bike to sign. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah! I cam! Mh, ‘ust wait!” Yaku was trying to talk so fast Kuroo couldn’t keep up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, wait! Can you sign it?” He moved his pointer fingers in a circle around each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My,” Yaku pointed to himself, then up away from his chin, “‘ice is srange, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kuroo agreed honestly. Yaku frowned and froze, looking humiliated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Being with Yaku felt like navigating a tiny sailboat in the salty ocean: He was never sure what to do. Honesty, which was tricky for Kuroo, seemed to work best, but then there were instances like this, and he was lost all over again. Kindness was the fail-safe option, so he retreated back into that.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s totally fine! It doesn’t matter to me!” He hurried to cheer him up. Kuroo patted on Yaku’s warm shoulder, pressing his thumb and pointer finger in the ‘okay’ in the symbol. “Trust me. If you could hear my brother sometimes…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku sighed, brushing his hand off. He was still frowning, but it was more contemplative than anything else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo decided to give him some space to cool off. Backing away, he hopped onto his bike. “I’m going to get some bread for these hungry fish, okay? We can eat some of it too.” Yaku’s eyes lit up. “Later, yeah?” He signed their sideways victory sign and pushed his bike’s pedal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d barely biked two feet when Yaku grabbed the back of his bike. Kuroo nearly fell off the back of the bike. “Yakkun, ow!” Yaku let go, and this time he did fall off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughed a little. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This hurts, you know,” Kuroo scowled, wondering vaguely if this was his version of revenge. Get his former enemy alone near an empty river, find yourself angry at him for an honest comment, and then dispose of him like it was nobody’s business. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku smiled warmly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The playground smile. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He offered out a hand, and it became something else entirely. He handed Kuroo the paper bag on his arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this for me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku stuck his lip out and avoided his eyes, nodding a little. Kuroo took it in his hands. “Can...Can I open it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glared at him like ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>just get on with it.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The package was tiny, just like Yaku. He was honestly curious about what it was, and even more about just </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yaku had bought it for him. Kuroo stuck his hand into the bag and pulled out a...a phone charm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A bread-shaped keychain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at it in disbelief. The girly keychain reflected sunset light and shined innocently as it dangled in his fingers. Weird choice, but, well, it was the thought that counted. He brought his hand to his wrist to sign. “Thank you so much, Yakkun.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku finally pulled his phone out from behind his back and showed it to him. A little golden koi fish hung on by a thread. The charm was as orange as the sky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then it struck him. “Hang on. Did...did you buy us matching phone charms?” He smirked, suddenly very ready to attach a random bread keychain to his phone. Yaku’s whole face flushed warmer than the weather. He turned around, shoulders hunched. A second later, Kuroo’s phone buzzed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Yakkun</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stop smirking like that. People will get suspicious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’m suspicious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it’s not a big deal or anything! Just to pay you back for helping out at camp! That‘s it. </span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Yakkun</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I have no idea how to put these on, but thank you. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku let out a little huff and faced him. He held out his hand for the charm and meticulously attached it to Kuroo’s phone. When he was done, they held them up next to each other to compare. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku smiled, brown eyes crinkled as he admired their now-fashionable phones. He rarely wore an expression like that, a soft, happy one. The only other time he had seen it was in the dark under manufactured street lights. They all knew how that had gone.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seeing it like this, painted by the lovely sunset, made Kuroo’s heart hammer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku was pretty and thoughtful and a friend and so much more than he anticipated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he mattered to Kuroo. Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> mattered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku stirred out of the quiet moment, pointed down the street, and started signing ‘bread.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can go get it,” Kuroo’s next sentence came out wobbly as he blinked away the foggy feelings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku frowned stubbornly and left, ignoring his cry of ‘Wait!’ He returned minutes later with wheat bread. Wheat bread? At least the hazy feelings had left, and his thinking had cleared up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They started by trying it first. Kuroo’s slice had seeds in it, and his face scrunched up in disgust. When Yaku looked back at him, though, he forced long-suffering thumbs-up. Whatever. It was to feed the fish anyway, right? As long as Yakkun liked it, that was enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then they had an unspoken completion about who could get the most fish to eat their bread. Kuroo definitely won. He came up with a method that involved tearing his slice into 2 large pieces so that the fish could really see it, that way they would swim over towards him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku scowled at him, but his bitter expression had a smile peeking behind it. “So, ah, why do you feed the fish, Yakkun? For fun-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku drew a line from his eye down his cheek with his pointer finger, and then made a thumbs-up, moving his hand towards the sky. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about him? Did you two feed the fish together?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, his smile fading like an old photograph. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo, that’s so insensitive! His dad is probably dead or something! Hurry, say something before he gets suspicious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Compliments. Send him compliments. “Well, I think you’re a great person for doing this, and I’m sure your dad would agree. Not many people have the will to step away from their busy lives and do something like this,” Kuroo tilted his head, and his black bangs fell into his eyes. By the time he had pushed them out of his vision, Yaku’s good mood had completly fallen away, replaced by clenched hands and a trembling lip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, Yakkun, are you okay?” He stepped closer, about to tap on Yaku’s shoulder to get his attention. Before he could, Yaku turned left. Their noses were barely an inch apart. Kuroo took a tiny step backwards, still close enough to see the glossy sheen in Yaku’s eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lack of space gave birth to a new kind of warmth, one made up of pretty eyelashes and shadows that seemed to exaggerate the curve of Yaku’s perfect nose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” Yaku inhaled sharply. “Ah...I..uhm…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Kuroo couldn’t tell if Yaku was trying to tell him something or if he was just uncharacteristically nervous. “Is it something about your dad?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook his head, jerking backwards as if he had been burned. ”I..cam’t…ah...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t what?” Kuroo asked, concerned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By now, it became obvious Yaku was struggling really hard not to cry. He ducked his head, flustered, and flashed their ‘later’ sign before racing in the opposite direction. Kuroo grabbed his bike to follow him, determined not to let this go when Yaku seemed so upset. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His phone buzzed, and he flipped it open hopefully. It wasn’t a message from Yaku like he had anticipated. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Owlman4</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Kubro , Akaashi &lt;3</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo come study at my house! Akaashi is helping me for finals! We have ice cream! </span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo let out a sigh, glaring at the weird nicknames. Just last night, he had changed Bokuto’s contact name back to Bokuto. Now it was Owlman4? He wouldn’t be surprised if Bokuto hacked (i.e. just opened the phone and went into his contacts) and edited it, though. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, ice cream sounded good.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Yaku…Maybe giving him space </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> be the better option. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Besides, the worst that could happen from going to the study group would be getting spammed by owl pictures at two a.m, whereas chasing Yaku could mean death if he wasn’t careful. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To: Owlman4, Akaashi &lt;3</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Kubro</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why did you put me on a group chat with Akaashi? Isn’t one chat enough? Also I think you put an extra space after my name.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In revenge, Akaashi sent a picture of a tiny barn owl. (Believe it or not, Kuroo had started learning the different types of owls for his best friend.) He stared at the screen, feeling betrayed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Owlman4</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Kubro , Akaashi &lt;3</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So cute Akaashi! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo are you coming?</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Owlman4, Akaashi &lt;3</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Kubro</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What do we need to study anyway?</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: Akaashi &lt;3</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Kubro , Owlman4</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>End of the period exams. Bokuto-san told me that he hasn’t started studying at all, despite the fact that they are tomorrow for advanced classes like yours. I couldn’t help but assume that the case was the same for you, Kuroo-san.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the irritation the cheekiness of the message gave him, it was absolutely correct. He had totally forgotten about those with all the training camp and Tsukki problems life was throwing at him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Kubro</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To: Owlman4, Akaashi &lt;3</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>I’m coming over right now. Please don’t start without me!!!</span><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma had been sitting inside all day. He was getting antsy. It felt like nothing could...sustain...him. Morisuke hadn’t come home after school like he normally would. Despite how grateful he was that his cousin seemed to have been in a genuinely good mood, it never lasted. There was always something tied to his legs, pulling him down, down, down until no one could reach him. Basically, Kenma was just waiting for the high to crash and burn. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was too ashamed to admit it to the only other person who might be able to help. Grandpa Nekomata had retreated to the balcony after grumbling about Nishinoya and the rest of his team’s shenanigans. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe Kenma was some sort of stress addict, but he couldn’t help feeling worried for his grandpa. Lately, he had been complaining about his old age and achy limbs. Kenma couldn’t lose Grandpa. His grandfather was a savior, someone so important to everyone in their family that without him things would visibly break. He couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t lose anyone. He couldn’t- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma sat up, chest tight. He stood up and slid open the glass door to the balcony desperately. Grandpa turned around in his plastic lawn chair. “Ah, Kenma. Is something the matter?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was just- I was wondering if you were feeling better today?” The sentence turned up in a question unwittingly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I am! This old man always gets back up on his feet. Besides, I’m not even 60 yet, Kenma. What do you take me for?” His grandfather laughed, and Kenma let out a tiny sigh. Nekomata picked up on it. “Come sit next to me, okay?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mother thought worrying was childish. Yaku didn’t believe in feeling anxious. But Grandpa always listened to him. He always understood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See those flowers?” Grandpa pointed at the white planter, even though they were bright and blooming right in front of both of them, impossible to miss. “I helped Morisuke plant those almost 6 years ago. Can you believe how much they’ve grown?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kenma nodded. He hated those flowers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just like both of my great grandchildren, wouldn’t you say?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t say great.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just,” Kenma’s voice caught in his throat. “Just, it’s not like I’ve done anything people will remember. Great people, you know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> great.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would argue. You do plenty of great things, Kenma.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sun was melting him, simmering everything he tried to ignore up to the surface. He couldn’t breath. He was just useless all the time, and there was no way to stop, no way to save his family, to save himself. No way to get over it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet here his grandfather was, claiming he was ‘great.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He almost choked on his next words. “Like what? I skip school almost every day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think about all the things you’re good at. Games, photography...Who needs school, anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma’s eyes widened. “Grandpa! You work at a school. Isn’t it against the policy to say something like that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’ll be our secret, okay?” When his grandfather smiled, he looked like a very content cat, stretched out under the warm sun. It was a look that had only started showing up more lately. When he and Morisuke moved in, the first time Kenma had met him, the only expression fixed on his face had been a grim frown. It was only later that he realized his Grandpa was friendly and easy-going and not this stiff, old man. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just hard to feel great,” Kenma admitted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe you should have continued volleyball. The feeling of greatness holds hands with victory, after all!” Kenma made a face, and his grandpa laughed again. “Surrounding yourself with good people always helps. Luckily for you, you have the best cousin around to help you with that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kuroo-san says that too.” She had been so happy to have people over, filling the house with noise and life. She was the opposite of Kenma’s mom, and Kenma wished he wasn’t as jealous of that as he was. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma’s phone buzzed, interrupting Grandpa’s next sentence. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>From: Shouyou ☀️❤️</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tetsu’s hanging with friends! No one's home and I’m lonely. :( Want to come over?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His pulse fluttered. Shouyou. Shouyou was just who he needed, just the ‘good person’ his grandpa was talking about. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who’s calling you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s from my friend,” He said, eyeing his Grandpa’s interested look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A friend, huh? Who?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s, uh,” Kenma smiled a little, thinking of sunshine smiles and bright eyes. “He’s the younger brother of Morisuke’s...friend. Kuroo Shouyou.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morisuke’s friend?” Nekomata repeated, looking concerned. Right. He and Mom had no idea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know how in 6th grade, you got Mom to call the school about Morisuke being bullied?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nekomata nodded, eyebrows furrowed. </span>
</p>
<p><span>Kenma avoided his gaze nervously. “Well, Kuro, the older one that is, knew Morisuke back then, and now he’s...trying...to be his friend. But through him I met Shouyou and now hewantsmetogmeethimsoisitokay-</span>formetogo?” Kenma took a huge breath and stood up, holding his phone close to his chest. </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kenma…” Nekomata smiled, looking dazed. “O-Of course. Of course you can go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” He exhaled in relief. Kenma looked over to the stupid flowers, planted for the worst reason and watered from his cousin’s tears, and picked one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morisuke is going to be upset about that,” His grandfather warned, looking amused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’ll be our secret, okay?” He smiled at his grandpa, who looked so surprised Kenma thought he might start asking questions if he didn’t leave in a minute. He shut the porch door and sighed, cheeks flush against the cold air of the apartment. Pressing the tiny flower against his chest, he texted Shouyou back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who cared if his Grandpa thought he was strange? Shouyou was a good escape, and Kenma needed someone like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?” Kenma called into a dark, empty house. The door had been unlocked, and as Kuroo-san was generally very lax and friendly, Kenma had stepped inside. His voice echoed back to him, and he reflected eerily on the horror movies only Noya enjoyed watching. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook off his shoes and peered into the kitchen. A gust of air started up, and Kenma flinched, only later realizing it was the air conditioning turning on. Dark shadows and cool colors were what he normally associated with his own apartment, but wandering around Shouyou’s house, he was reminded of it. </span>
</p>
<p>Kenma walked up the stairs and peeked into the messy living and bedroom. Low light exaggerated the room’s shadows and highlighted the metal furniture legs. It was creepy, interesting, and, honestly, he really wanted to take a picture of it. At any moment, a ghost was going to jump out at him. Any. Moment-</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kenma!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma literally jumped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, Kenma, your hands are trembling,” Shouyou laughed and patted his shoulder gently. “Has anyone ever told you your hair makes you look like Sadako when it hangs in your face like that?” He reached up with his warm fingers and tucked a black lock behind his ear and out his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surely it was just post-fear causing his heart to pump so fast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Surely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sadako?” Kenma whispered shyly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not that it’s a bad thing or anything!” Shouyou said. “Sorry!” He backed away, grinning uncertainty. His expression filled Kenma with a sweet rush, a need to keep that flustered look on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think I should dye it or something?” Kenma teased, curling a bit around his finger. “It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting long.” Shouyou’s face was slowly growing pinker. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I think it’s cute like that.” Cute?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you?” Kenma smirked, leaning forward. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Shouyou squeaked. “Uh, Kenma, is it getting hot in here? I think it’s getting kind of hot. I’ll open the window, okay?” He ducked around Kenma to tug on the rusty window sill, looking panicked. Eventually, he was able to open it, and the musty room was flooded with the sounds of traffic and golden light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shouyou turned around to smile at Kenma. The way the light hit him was almost perfect. The tips of his hairs glowed, and his golden eyes were bright. His silhouette was traced by the sun. He was small and important and normal and interesting all rolled into a wonderful teenage boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noticing his stare, Shouyou struck a dorky pose. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I only use my camera roll for important things,” Kenma retorted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah?” Shouyou’s eyes widened in interest. “What do you take pictures of? I don’t think you’ve ever showed me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mostly animals. Or plants.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How many pictures have you taken? Do you like it? Is it fun?” Just like the first time they met, Shouyou had too many questions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not really,” Kenma’s free hand wandered over to his camera. “I just do it because my mom wanted me to have a ‘hobby.’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah!” Shouyou frowned in familiar determination. “Well, one day...One day, I’ll get you to take a picture of a moment you’ll never want to forget!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Kenma titled his head and smiled at the bold claim. “I’ll look forward to it, then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah! Something that’s not a boring plant, that’s for sure!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It reminded him of the tiny flower he had brought. “Shouyou, here,” Kenma handed it to him reluctantly. Curse his flash of confidence and its way of leaving when he needed it the most. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw! Is this for Mom?” Shouyou took in gingerly. “I’ll put it in some water!” He started climbing down the stairs, chatting the whole time. “Oh! Sorry about earlier. I was playing outside, so I didn't hear you come in. It’s not really like I wanted to scare you or anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was still staring at Kenma with his wide eyes as he poured water into a clear pitcher. “Kageyama was such a meanie today! He always yells at everyone who can’t keep up with him. I swear, he acts like such a king sometimes! ‘Kuroo, you runt! Run faster! Kuroo, stop getting so nervous, coward!’ And this morning, he shouted at Kindaichi until I stepped in. To be honest, he can be kinda </span>
  <em>
    <span>urgh.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He smiled. “You’re not scary at all Kenma! That’s why I like you so much!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shouyou,” Kenma interrupted. “The water’s spilling.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right! I shouldn't gossip! Kageyama is my teammate, after all,” Shouyou nodded with finality. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shouyou!” Kenma shouted, racing forward to shut the sink off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” He stared down at his wet hands. “Ehehe, sorry. I didn’t realize you were talking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>actual</span>
  </em>
  <span> water.” Kenma took the pitcher and poured out half of it. They placed it with the flower in the middle of the kitchen table. It was yellow and matched the quilt-like tablecloth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It looks good,” Shouyou announced. Kenma agreed. “When nii-chan comes back from volleyball practice, I can’t wait for him to see it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kuro does volleyball?” Kenma asked in surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. He joined this year,” Shouyou said happily, </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shouyou had asked him to speak up if anything seemed wrong. Shouyou trusted him. Shouyou gave him a sense of freedom, and all he asked for in return was the truth about his brother. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah! He told me about it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never seen Kuro play volleyball.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Shouyou turned to look at him, face still frozen in a tiny smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never seen Kuro play...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it’s not like we go to his school or anything! How could either of us see him play on the team?” The dark of the kitchen shut down the light in Shouyou’s eyes. His smile was still plastered on his face like old gum.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know how there was training camp last week? I asked him to come- as a helper, not a member of the volleyball team. He’s not playing volleyball.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook his head in denial. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma persisted. “Kuro’s lying to you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shouyou was barely holding on to the sliver of his smile by now. “Tetsurou wouldn’t. Tetsurou is honest.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honest people still lie!” And of course it was Morisuke who he was talking about because it came back to Morisuke. No matter what. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morisuke claimed to be honest all the time, but he still lied. He lied when Kenma needed him to the most, when he was sick with worry. He lied with a flick of fingers and a forced smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morisuke always leaked into whatever conversation he had, always for the worst. “Honest people still lie!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t make sense!” Shouyou shouted back, voice breaking at the end. Kenma’s heart broke along with it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shouyou,” He held up in hands in surrender. “Just talk to him about it. I know you don’t want to listen to me right now, but I promise that you should ask him. You wanted me to be honest with you, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did, but not like this,” He said weakly. “Can you give me some space, Kenma-kun?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kenma backed away, even as he wanted to reach out and hug him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, buddy!” Bokuto grinned at Kuroo from his spot by the </span>
  <em>
    <span>chabudai.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sitting next to him, with his legs folded by his side, was Akaashi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was weird to see Akaashi, a person who had been more of an object than a person for so long to Kuroo, looking like a normal high school student, a teenager forced to study like everyone else. He wasn’t the idol Bokuto had made him out to be, or an angel sent to save Kuroo from Oikawa. He was just a person who had been put on a pedestal. He had feelings like everyone else. Even if they seemed to be buried very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>deep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo dropped down onto one of the cushions and took a look at one of the math textbooks. “Are you sure you understand this stuff, Akaashi-san?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fairly certain,” Akaashi replied coolly. “I pay attention in class to the best of my ability, so I think I’ll be able to comprehend it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you think I don’t?” Kuroo scoffed. “Bokuto and I are very focused in class.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa, why do you have a bread keychain?” Bokuto asked, unintentionally proving Akaashi’s point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yakkun gave it to me,” Kuroo pulled his phone away from Bokuto’s sticky fingers. Then, because he wanted to annoy Akaashi: “Is it true that you two met at a funeral?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bro, I asked you not to bring that up!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it true that you’re chasing after a deaf kid because you don’t know what else to do with your time?” Akaashi smiled. It was infuriatingly attractive. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“AKAASHI!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know, is it true that you’ll never fill Oikawa’s shoes?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi stiffened. “That-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, enough! I’ve got all vanilla, chocolate and strawberry ice cream, Kuroo. Which flavor do you want?!” Bokuto shouted over them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Strawberry,” He said immediately, still glaring at Akaashi. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about you, Akaashi?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Strawberry, please.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I want chocolate!” Bokuto handed them the little cups and cute wooden spoons. “Both of you have terrible taste.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That makes more for you, Bokuto-san.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa, smart! I didn't think of that. Keep liking strawberries for me, Akaashi!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It could have been cute if it didn’t make Kuroo feel so awkward. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, so both of you have the math exam first, correct?” Bokuto nodded, and Kuroo shrugged. “Bokuto-san, what’s the last thing you remember your math teacher talking about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” He pouted. Kuroo watched in astonishment as he was able to fit half of the ice cream on his tiny spoon. “I try to watch him writing on the board, but I get really tired and forget all of it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s totally fine,” Akaashi said, surprising Kuroo. “It happens to everyone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously?” Bokuto perked up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” Akaashi agreed. “Everyone has their favorite subjects. I like literature, for example. Kuroo-san...likes science.” He glanced over to Kuroo, who shot him a thumbs up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that’s the thing, </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the subjects are my least favorite. Especially math!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi paused for a second, and Kuroo was sure he would snap at Bokuto, but instead he grabbed one of the textbooks and said, “That just means we need to start studying now, then.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It went...alright, for a kid with a 6 in math and another who never paid attention because he was too nervous that the teacher was judging him with every comment. Akaashi was as patient and controlled as a stone statue, occasionally pointing out mistakes to Kuroo, and basically guiding Bokuto down the practice page. It was admittedly surprising how behind Kuroo was, despite being a quick learner. Karma for focusing all his energy into the past, he guessed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually Bokuto left to use the restroom, and Kuroo took the chance to ask what he really wanted to know. “Why are you helping us, Akaashi?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The 2nd year sighed, like he had been waiting for the question. “Well, Bokuto-san is probably my closest friend. By extension, that includes you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But </span>
  <em>
    <span>why?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you always need a reason for things? I just want Bokuto-san to be successful. He...deserves it.” Akaashi was saved by ‘Bokuto-san’ himself running into the room and slipping on the wooden floor. He seemed unfazed by the sudden action. “Are you alright?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bokuto groaned and rubbed his head. “It must be the fact that these are my green socks. I never fall when I wear my blue ones.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Must be,” Kuroo grinned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Akaashi, I was thinking while in the restroom: We could get matching keychains too! Like, of something fun! Give me some ideas, Kuroo!” Bokuto pointed at him dramatically.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe two caskets?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whaaat? NO! I told you not to bring that up anymore!” His best friend threw a pillow at him angrily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo held the cushion in front of his face, laughing too hard to muffle it. “I’m-I’m sorry, bro!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san, since you had time to come up with that...whole idea, do you remember what unit we were learning about just two minutes ago?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Math, obviously!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akaashi said nothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, he’s not wrong,” Kuroo offered. It was met with Akaashi’s first glare of irritation, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last Kuroo got out of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaku threw himself on the bed, torn between screaming, crying or grinning until his face hurt. All of them sounded like perfectly reasonable options at the moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had almost ruined Kuroo’s life. Almost. There was just so much warmth, so much breathtaking tension in the heat of the moment, he’d wanted to confess to Kuroo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The real reason the key chains were so important: he wanted Kuroo to think of him even when they weren’t together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why he had gotten one for Kuroo: because Kuroo had chosen him over Tsukishima Kei for the first time yesterday, and Yaku adored him for it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t say that. Kuroo was already being generous by giving him a gem-like friendship. Imagine being selfish enough to confess and ruin it all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No way. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Still, Yaku decided, it felt dishonest. The only way to really bat down the feelings was to stay away until they left. He could control himself, right? It wasn’t that hard, and he had other friends. Suga and Yuu. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wouldn’t be that bad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morisuke sighed and lifted his phone above his head, watching the fish swing like it was swimming through the moonlight. It wasn’t golden anymore, not like how it had been next to Kuroo’s either. But that didn’t matter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just do it for his sake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just this once, don’t be selfish. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just </span>
  <em>
    <span>control</span>
  </em>
  <span> yourself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo got home late, later than usual, and too deep into the evening to use his normal excuse. To his surprise, it was Shouyou, instead of his Mom, waiting for him with crossed arms and an expectant look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was just over at my friend’s house,” He said, throwing his shoes off and waiting for the expression to melt away. It stayed there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah? Your volleyball friends?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, actually,” Kuroo frowned at the sarcastic tone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Funny. Kenma came over earlier. You know, my </span>
  <em>
    <span>actual</span>
  </em>
  <span> friend.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s my friend too,” Kuroo hung his bag up and started walking up the stairs, ready to get away from his grumpy brother. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is he really? Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> friends?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Of course we are,” He retorted impatiently. “Why? What’s with all the questions, Chibi-chan?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shouyou’s next sentence came out icy. “Kenma told me that you don’t actually play volleyball.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo froze, stomach dropping. “Did he?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” Shouyou demanded. “Stop brushing me off and tell me if it’s true!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you lying to me about it or not?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Yes, I’m not part of the volleyball team!” Kuroo turned around to look at his brother. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shouyou’s expression was scary; his mouth was pressed into a frown, his fingers were tight around his arms, and the way the light hit his face gave him those demonic-looking eyes. The fiery look was lost in a blink and replaced by innocent tears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nii-chan…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Kuroo muttered, staring at the peeling wallpaper to avoid having to look at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know volleyball is my life! Why would you lie to me, Tetsurou?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I tried telling you that it wasn’t the truth earlier, but you ignored me!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you should have tried again! Or,” His voice was getting louder every second, “you could have just not lied in the first place!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know how </span>
  <em>
    <span>humiliating</span>
  </em>
  <span> it was to hear it from Kenma? I really like him, and now he thinks I’m some gullible idiot!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry. I just, I needed to go to the rec center, and then there was this whole thing with Bokuto-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bokuto-san knew about it before me?” Shouyou screeched. “Tetsurou! Why-why would you-” He sniffed, trying to hold back the tears. “What is Mom going to think?! She’s-I’m-We’re both so worried about you! And you’re still lying to us?” He was full on crying now. “It’s-It’s like I don’t even know you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shou-chan,” Kuroo tried to take a step towards him, but Shouyou jumped backwards. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m telling Mom as soon as she gets back home from the store.” He marched off, and it was punctuated by the sound of the back door being slammed shut. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo sighed and slid down to sit on the stairs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was exhausted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Contrary to what Kuroo expected, his life didn’t end then and there. He did apologize, reluctantly, to his worried mother, and fruitlessly, to an angry Shouyou. Even after explaining everything, including the Sign Language Circle, the original cause for lying, neither of them seemed appeased. His mom seemed more concerned than ever, and Shouyou was just upset. He refused to talk to him unless necessary.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>End of term exams were boring, but easy enough, thanks to Akaashi’s genius memory tips. They drained Kuroo of something, energy probably, that left him staring at his bread charm for unhealthy amounts of time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He missed Yakkun in a way that made his heart ache, oddly enough. Yaku hadn’t talked to him since the bridge incident, and Kuroo was getting worried. He hadn’t done anything, right? Maybe it was his fault for asking about Yaku’s dad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo sighed and rested his head on the desk, closing his eyes. He might be able to fall asleep forever if he tried hard enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Iwa-chan! Congrats on getting through exams!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s this?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on! It’s obvious!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where would I put a keychain, Dummy-kawa?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo’s eyes flew open. He tried to subtly look over to where Oikawa was standing. On the desk in front of him was a tiny Godzilla keychain, and the recipient was glaring at it even as his mouth quirked up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop being mean! I just gave you a gift!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I can’t take it! I don’t want to feel like I owe you anything!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be like that! Your company is enough, if you know what I mean,” Oikawa winked, and Kuroo took the victim’s enraged silence as a chance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oikawa-kun, why did you buy him a keychain?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oikawa turned to face him with a secretive smile that only frustrating Oikawas could pull off. “I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> a reason to give my best friend a gift, Kuro-chan.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you always need a reason for things? I just want Bokuto-san to be successful. He...deserves it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All it did was remind him of Akaashi, and he was left with another dead end, because Yaku always had a reason. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo made his way out of the busy hall towards the bike rack. It was weird to be going home at a normal time, instead of waiting after school for volleyball practice to end, but it was his only punishment for being a lying jerk, so...it wasn’t fair to complain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pushed back his kickstand and started rolling backwards. The momentum was stopped suddenly by a strong arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo turned around and saw the guy Oikawa had been talking to earlier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh no. He was definitely about to chew him out for eavesdropping. Maybe he’d accuse Kuroo of harassment too. This guy looked strong. He could probably get some good punches in if he really wanted to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I’m Iwaizumi Hajime. It’s nice to meet you,” He held out his calloused hand, which gave Kuroo no choice but to shake it nervously. This Iwaizumi character could definitely tell Kuroo was sweating. Were his hands sweating? Kuroo tried to discreetly wipe them on his uniform pants. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see you after volleyball practice sometimes. Are you interested in it? I’m the ace, by the way.” Iwaizumi fixed his hands on his hips proudly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he knew about Kuroo being a creep watching practice. Great.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A-ace, huh? That’s really great. I-I could tell.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, ‘cause of my jersey, right? The number four!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kuroo stared at the ground. Iwaizumi had on tennis shoes instead of the uniform white ones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I bet you're wondering why I’m talking to you, huh?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Kuroo said, trying not to sound too grateful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got Hanamaki to cover for me, for practice and all. I see you talking to Oikawa sometimes, and, well, I’m kinda Oikawa’s babysitter, so…” He trailed off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So let me know if that drama queen is bothering you, alright?” Iwaizumi reached forward to clap him on the shoulder good naturedly. “You seem like a cool guy. I bet we could be friends, and not just ‘cause of Oikawa.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo watched him grin. It reached his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah!” Kuroo shook his head, surprised in the best way. Friends. So this guy wasn’t planning to attack him. That’s...nice. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kuroo tried texting Yaku later that evening, but he got no response. Then he texted him a joke about how short he was, deciding it was worth risking his life if he actually managed to grab Yaku’s attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scrolled through his contacts desperately, pausing when he saw ‘Sugawara-san.’ </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe Suga would know what was up. People trusted him, and surely Yaku confided in him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pressed the call button. Suga answered after only two rings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?” His gentle voice was crackly over the phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, this is Kuroo.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kuroo-san?!” He sounded surprised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry for the short notice,” Kuroo said quickly, reminded of just why he hated phone calls. Sure, he didn’t have to worry about expectant eyes, but what replaced it was the difficulty of not seeing the person’s expression. So many things could go wrong over the phone: Incidentally hanging up, his words coming out aggressively-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kuroo-san?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah! I, uh,” Kuroo was regretting this by the second.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was there something you needed?” Suga asked kindly. “Some help, maybe?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually, I kinda...I need advice.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” There was a static pause. “For what?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re friends with Yakkun,” Kuroo said. The sentence came out like it couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be a question or a statement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure I am. So are you,” He was teasing, but Kuroo really needed him to be serious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Has he said anything about me? Like, is he avoiding me?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Avoiding you?” Suga repeated. “Well, he hasn’t said anything about it to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” His disappointment must’ve been obvious because Suga had something to add.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you just ask him to hang out or something? Mori-kun is honest; He’ll tell you no if he doesn’t want to go.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s...true. Thank you, Suga-san!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anytime.” Kuroo couldn’t see Sugawara, but he was sure there was a smile caused by him all the way in Miyagi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From: !!!!! Kuroo !!!!!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yakkkkkkkun!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Please respond! </span>
</p>
<p>Can you not hear me down there??</p>
<p>Please don’t kill me for that one. :(</p>
<p>
  <span>Okay, I talked to Suga and we were thinking about going to ride some roller coasters to celebrate summer break starting. Want to come?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Holding his fish-charm embellished phone close to his chest, Morisuke gave up resisting at 4:06 a.m. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fine, stupid heart, he would go to the amusement park with Kuroo. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I can’t believe there are only two chapter between jmp and jmp (var). Story and development wise, it feels like there are more...<br/>*<br/>Okay, first, I’d like to say sorry for taking a whole week to update. My life decided to get busier, and I had less time to write! (I was also debating whether or not to put the amusement park with this chapter, but it was already pretty long by itself.) </p>
<p>I’m going to aim for weekly updates, instead of biweekly for a little bit, until a have more time to write! That being said, thank you for sticking with this story and for all your support! 💕</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. rsh</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A trip to the hottest amusement park in town.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is based off the movie A Silent Voice/Koe no Katachi. Like the movie, this work contains mentioned/attempted suicide, bullying, and depression. Please, <em>please</em> stay safe and take care of yourself. <strong>Do not</strong> read this if that triggers or bothers you!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kuroo yawned and came to life with the city. He’d admit that waking up at 5:00 a.m. to get on a busy train headed out of Tokyo just to go to some very fancy amusement park wasn’t exactly the best way to spend your morning. It was even worse because, apparently, at least half of the teenagers in the nation had the exact same idea. </p><p>Next to him, Bokuto was describing his amazing test taking skills to Akaashi. His score of 62 was so record-breaking, their homeroom teacher was convinced he had cheated. </p><p>Kuroo was happy for him, though, and he was sure Akaashi felt the same. Studying was annoying, but at least it came with sweet victory. </p><p>“Are we there yet?” Akaashi peered over Kuroo’s shoulder to see out the window. </p><p>“Probably,” Kuroo replied, flipping his phone open. The bread charm swung back and forth with the rhythm of the train. </p><p>“I’m getting so bored!” Bokuto whined, throwing his head backwards. His salt and pepper hair fell into his eyes from under his baseball cap. He was the only one who snagged a seat in their group, yet he still found something to complain about. </p><p>“You don’t like talking to us?” Akaashi asked innocently. </p><p>“What? No, no, no, no! Akaashi, that’s not it!” He sat up in alarm. </p><p>“If you say so,” He replied, raising one of his eyebrows in the telling way Kuroo had picked up on. Akaashi was amused. </p><p>Bokuto grinned up at him and his perfect blue shirt with stars in his eyes.</p><p>Kuroo started tapping on his phone so they could have their gross moment without him being in the middle of it. His latest text was from Kenma, telling him that he and Yaku were driving there with their Grandpa, instead of meeting them at the station. </p><p>The train halted and the doors slid open. They managed to push through the crowd and secure a shady spot by the entrance. It would have been hot, if the wind wasn’t blowing at a million miles per hour. Suga found them right away, beaming and looking perfect in his crisp jeans despite the time of day. </p><p>“Are you guys excited? Heads up: I love the ones that drop straight down!” His smile turned sharp. “Let’s ride them ‘til we get sick!” </p><p>“Uh, I don’t know-” Before Kuroo could finish Suga was already introducing himself to Bokuto and Akaashi as an ‘old friend.’ Bokuto warmed up to him immediately, and Akaashi was as polite as ever. Sugawara had a natural charm that always felt more genuine than Oikawa’s fluorescent brightness. </p><p>Speaking of Oikawa… </p><p>“They’re over there, Iwa-chan!” </p><p>“I’m trying to park, Trashy-kawa. Stop yelling in my ear!” </p><p>“You’re the one yelling! It’s not an attractive look on you!” </p><p>“Well, at least my pants aren’t so twisted that I always think I’m beautiful!”</p><p>“That’s ‘cause I know I am!”</p><p>Sugawara turned around to look at the bickering pair. Kuroo watched as his face turned cold. Right. He and Oikawa had always had a rocky relationship, even back in Elementary School. Even <em> before </em> Yaku showed up, when it was just setter vs. setter, clever brown eyes vs. clever brown eyes, Oikawa Tooru vs. Sugawara Koushi.</p><p>Iwaizumi stepped out of the car first, clad in a Godzilla shirt and tan shorts. It was weird to see him without his school uniform or jersey on. His arms...really stood out. Next to him, Oikawa was dressed in the least appealing outfit ever. Kuroo knew he wasn’t the only one thinking it. </p><p>Oikawa gasped. “Mr. Refresh-Suga-chan! It’s been so long!” </p><p>“Oikawa.” Sugawara stiffened for a moment before smiling. The black beauty mark by his eye crinkled. “It definitely has.”</p><p>“I should have talked to you more during training camp! It’s just been really busy being captain and starter setter, you know? Everyone wanted to chat with me!” </p><p>“Wow, flame your ego a bit more, why don’t you?” Iwaizumi huffed, shaking his head. He stuck his hand out towards Kuroo threateningly. Kuroo started raising his own up in self defense, but then Iwaizumi clasped it in a friendly handshake. The warmth surprised him. “Everything okay? You look exhausted, dude.” </p><p>“Stop harassing my best friend!” Bokuto shouted, throwing his arm around Kuroo’s shoulder. “Kuroo’s not tired at all!” He started glaring at Iwaizumi in very one-sided hostility. </p><p>“I’m just being friendly,” Iwaizumi said, crossing his arms. </p><p>“Well, go talk to someone else! Isn’t Oikawa-san supposed to be your best friend?” </p><p>“Crappy-kawa?” Iwaizumi exclaimed. </p><p>“Yeah! Go bother him instead!”</p><p>“I’m not bothering anyone-”</p><p>“Hey, look! There’s Yakkun and Kenma.” Kuroo diverted their attention by pointing towards the people stepping out of a beat up gray car.</p><p>“Hey, hey, hey! Kenma!” Bokuto perked up, running over to them. </p><p>Yaku’s brown eyes found Kuroo in the crowd right away. He met them, and Yaku flinched, looking away with a defensive expression on his face. Next to him, Noya noticed and made a point to scowl at Kuroo for no reason. </p><p>Eventually, everyone was introduced to each other. It was so busy and crowded here, it gave Kuroo a rush of adrenaline. Trips like these were rare. This was probably his first time going to an amusement park since 5th year. The sunshine mixed with sweet air and an elevated sense of freedom gave the chaos of it all a good feel. </p><p>“Kenma, do you think that girl is staring at Morisuke-kun weirdly?” Noya leaned over to Kenma, who looked up and nodded suspiciously. </p><p>“I’m sure she’s not,” Suga assured. He sounded worried, but not for Yaku. </p><p>It clicked, and Kuroo grinned. “I’m pretty sure that guy was looking at him as well.” Noya’s eyes lit up in alarm. Kenma turned his head around at a frighteningly quick speed, trying to pin the made-up person down like a butterfly to a cork board. They left to go investigate. </p><p>“Could you stop egging them on?” Sugawara said exasperatedly. </p><p>“You have to admit it’s amusing how protective they are. Yaku can take care of himself,” Kuroo elbowed Suga, who bit his pink lip. </p><p>“Yeah,” He agreed quickly. </p><p>“You lied! No one was staring at him,” Noya marched back over to them, pointing his finger at Kuroo’s nose like a TV lawyer. “Except you! Lying Rooster Head!”</p><p>“That’s right. Kuro lies a lot,” Kenma’s flat voice didn’t give away anything, but the glint in his eyes did. </p><p>Suga started to interject. “He’s not really that-”</p><p>“Suga-san,” Noya interrupted. “Who’s that?” The conversation halted. Kuroo followed Nishinoya’s gaze over to where Tsukki was standing, towering over Yaku with his unfair height advantage. </p><p>“Tsukishima? What’s he doing here?” Kuroo muttered. </p><p>“I invited him. I thought this was a reunion of sorts,” Sugawara admitted, twisting his hands together. “And Tsukishima,” Suga sighed, “he…” </p><p>“Reunion?” Kenma repeated. “He knew Morisuke in Elementary School?” </p><p>Kuroo sort of wanted to yell at Suga. </p><p>“Just avoid him,” Nishinoya spoke up. “If he’s annoying, avoid him.”</p><p>Of course he thought it was that easy. </p><p>*</p><p>“Alright everyone! I researched the park all night, and I’ve deduced that going on the big, space-themed one first will save us the most time!” Oikawa declared, pointing at the dark blue roller coaster reflecting the bright sun in all its glory. </p><p>“You just want to go on the Comet,” Iwaizumi grumbled, seeing right through him. Kuroo smiled at the indignant look on Oikawa’s face. “Don’t lie.”</p><p>“I never lie! The line is shortest in the morning! The website said it would be about an hour.”</p><p>“Why is Oikawa-san acting like a tour guide?” Bokuto grumbled. </p><p>“Who knows,” Kuroo said. </p><p>They shuffled into the busy line. Akaashi was unconsciously charming most of their group with a flat retelling of Fukurodani’s latest volleyball game. Kenma pulled on Kuroo’s arm to get his attention. His voice sounded faint above the screams and shouts of the crowd around them. </p><p>“Why didn’t you invite Shouyou?” He asked, eyebrows pulled down accusingly. </p><p>“He’s not talking to me anymore,” Kuroo answered weakly. </p><p>“Did you at least ask him?” </p><p>“Wh-no, I didn’t.”</p><p>“Why? Are you scared?” </p><p>“Of course not! It takes time. This is your fault, anyway. If you hadn’t told him-”</p><p>“Have you stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, I’ve already lost sleep blaming myself for this without your input?” Kenma’s voice came out rough. “And you were too afraid to tell him the truth, so it’s actually your fault!” </p><p>Kuroo ran a hand through his untamable hair. “Look, I’ll try later, okay? Can we just enjoy being here?” Desperate to avoid the rest of this conversation, Kuroo went for a somewhat manipulative approach. “Yakkun is having a good time. We should too.” </p><p>That flipped a switch in Kenma, as he prioritized his cousin and they both knew it. He wilted and let out a sigh. “Good point. I guess...I just thought since all your friends were here, one of mine would be too.” </p><p>“Ah,” Kuroo reached out towards him, but he pushed away into the center of their group. </p><p>“Morisuke-kun, let’s go sit in the very front!” Noya said, enthusiastically pointing towards the two seats painted with cartoonish flames coming out from behind a comet. Yaku nodded, allowing himself to be pulled by Noya’s tiny fingers. It kinda annoyed Kuroo. Okay, it really annoyed him. Yaku needed his hands and arms to speak. Touching them was not okay, but Noya clung to him, however friendly his intentions were, without consequence. </p><p>“Kuroo-san, want to sit next to me?” Suga’s voice interrupted his stewing. He smiled when Kuroo looked around to find him. “You’re also holding up the line.” </p><p>Kuroo sat down next to him flushed with embarrassment, but Sugawara didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he looked amused. Kuroo felt the need to say something, anything, to this social boy of the past. “This was a good idea, Suga-san. Everyone’s enjoying themselves.” </p><p>“Give yourself some credit! I wouldn’t have mentioned it if you hadn’t called me in the first place.” </p><p>“You even invited Tsukishima,” Kuroo paused as the roller coaster started moving. “Is everything okay between you two?”</p><p>“Mm,” Sugawara stared straight ahead. “Tsukishima is on the volleyball team with me. He’s the tallest player we have.” </p><p>That didn’t exactly answer his question, but talking about what happened at Nekoma Elementary School was like pulling glass out of your hand; it was a painful and sensitive topic. He shouldn’t have expected anything else. </p><p>“Back in 6th year, I was way too scared to go on this ride. I was such a coward back then,” Suga added scornfully. He didn’t say anything else, but the words were pushing towards the surface, bubbling like hot spring water above the ground. He wasn’t done. “But after what happened back in Elementary School, I decided to look at it differently.” </p><p>They were getting closer to the top. Kuroo’s heart pounded faster in expectation. </p><p>“I was going to decide if it was scary <em> after </em> I rode it.” </p><p>And although Sugawara’s silver hair was still ruffled by the wind in the same way, and he still had enough kindness to give out a million second chances, somehow he had changed. He was braver, and they both knew it. </p><p>Suga’s nose crinkled mischievously. “It <em> is </em> scary, Kuroo-san.” </p><p>“Thanks for the heads up!” Kuroo shouted over the rushing in his ears and the tilt of the car they were riding in and wild screams and-</p><p>His stomach flipped in an empty feeling of wild adrenaline. The blue sky stretched on and on above him, speeding by faster than he could blink. Kuroo curled his hands around the bar in a desperate attempt to steel himself against the motion. Suga was laughing hysterically at him, loud enough that it could be heard over the squeals of joy and the loud tracks. </p><p>Kuroo’s hair blew around his face, blurring his vision and leaving him feeling nauseous from the paper clip turns. As quickly as the rush came, it left, in a jarring halt that resulted in wobbly legs and trembling fingers. Suga helped him stand up. Kuroo was able to get out of the high-traffic zone and onto a warm concrete seat. He gulped up the fresh air thankfully. Sugawara patted his shoulder, laughter reduced to the occasional snicker.</p><p>“Are you gonna be okay?” He asked, sounding concerned. </p><p>“Uh. Yeah, I think so.” Kuroo sat up. “Looks like we lost them though. I’ll text Yakkun.” He pulled out his phone. The bread charm looked good in summer sunshine. </p><p>“It makes me happy to see that you’re trying to be friends with Mori-kun,” Suga said suddenly. </p><p>“What do you mean?” Kuroo shot Sugawara a look. “We <em> are </em> friends.” </p><p>“Ah, of course,” He laughed a little bit, but the look faded immediately. “Sorry, Kuroo-san. It’s just that-It’s just that...sometimes I still see that kid who laughed along with everyone else at Mori-kun’s expense. But I know you’re different! And, uh, I really respect you for trying to change, because I know it’s really hard. I can’t help but think of how you acted back then…T-That’s all.”</p><p>Kuroo wanted to bite back, say something like ‘<em> at least I didn’t run away,’ </em>but he swallowed the urge down. “Sugawara-san, can I ask you something?”</p><p>“Go right ahead.”</p><p>“Are you two-faced?”</p><p>“Huh?” Sugawara’s eyes grew as round as a full moon. </p><p>“Lots of people describe you that way. You know, ‘Mr. Refreshing' and all.”</p><p>Suga glared at him. “I <em> do </em> care about my friends, and I <em> don’t </em> fake anything. Unlike some people, kindness has never been a challenge for me.” With that, Sugawara started speed-walking towards the roller coaster’s exit. Kuroo ran to catch up with him. </p><p>“Wait! Suga-chan, I’m sorry!” Suga slowed down, brown eyes flickering over to him briefly. </p><p>“Yeah. Thanks.” </p><p>When they met up with the group, Yaku elbowed him with the sharpest arm in the world, signing a whole spiel about safety. Oikawa started teasing Suga, who just smiled evilly in response. Bokuto and Iwaizumi were tentatively bonding over their love of roller coasters, and Kenma was showing off his camera to Noya and Tsukki (who was trying to look disinterested.) It kinda...It kinda felt...they were friends.</p><p>“May we go get in line for the swing-y one?” Akaashi asked, pulling at his fingers. </p><p>His cool voice cut through the chatter. Everyone turned to stare, and his ocean blue eyes crinkled. He was a little uncertain, and it was cute in an undeniable way. </p><p>“Aww! Aka-chan, of course! We’ll go right now! Anything for my adorable kouhai,” Oikawa slung his arm around Akaashi’s shoulders, leading him straight towards the requested ride. </p><p>“Akaashi! You should have said something sooner!” Bokuto tried fruitlessly to pull Oikawa away. “We’ll go on it as many times as you want! An infinite number of times!” </p><p>“Don’t worry, Akaashi-kun! Everyone loves the swing-y one! The way it rocks makes everyone so dizzy! It’s the best!”</p><p>“Even Kenma likes that one! Right?”</p><p>“Sure. If Akaashi-san likes it.” </p><p>Everyone except Tsukki and Kuroo were trying to talk to Akaashi all at once. Perks of being pretty? </p><p>They got in line right away. It was an hour long wait, which annoyed Kuroo a lot, but he wasn’t in the mood to start a battle with Akaashi anytime soon. </p><p>Bokuto started a bad charades game that included way too many noises from the host. “Argh! No!” Bokuto put his arms up again. He wiggled back and forth, sending a meaningful look towards Akaashi, who actually wasn’t his partner this round. </p><p>Oikawa let out a ginormous sigh. “Seriously? I’m the one you're supposed to get the message to! Stop looking over at him!”</p><p>Bokuto let out a whine. Kuroo swore his hair got limp. </p><p>“Give up?” Tsukki asked with a sadistic smirk. He was the one in charge of the game, and he seemed to enjoy their suffering.</p><p>“It’s a tube man.” Akaashi said suddenly. “Tube man. Skydancer. Tall Boy. An inflatable balloon man that advertises car dealerships.” </p><p>“WHAT?!” Oikawa shrieked. “That-That-How in the <em> world </em> was I supposed to get it?!” Sugawara laughed at him, failing to hide it behind his hand. </p><p>“That’s why Akaashi <em> is </em> a world!” Bokuto replied, high-fiving Akaashi, who’s expression miraculously remained still. </p><p>“So do you have some darn telepathic connection or something?” Iwaizumi, who had scored Yaku as his partner, asked. </p><p>“Well, we have known each other since Junior High,” Akaashi admitted. </p><p>“Alright, Nishinoya-san, it’s your turn, since Akaashi got it right.”</p><p>“Ready to guess?!” Noya pointed directly at Akaashi’s nose. “I bet you’ll get it right away! Just like how Kiyoko-san always gets me!”</p><p>“Kiyoko-san?” Kuroo muttered, watching Tsukki show his phone to Noya for his word. </p><p>“She’s the manager of Grandpa’s volleyball team,” Kenma told him. </p><p>“Really? I’ve never met her.”</p><p>“Yeah, she got sick before the weekend training camp.” </p><p>Noya pitched his thumb and pointer finger together and started shaking them up and down. It reminded Kuroo of another question he had. </p><p>“Hey, Kenma, does Nishinoya-san know Sign?” </p><p>“Sort of,” Kenma shrugged. “He tries, but he’s impatient. Plus he has this dumb delusion that if he yells loud enough, Morisuke will hear him.”</p><p>“Ah,” Kuroo tried to quench the pleasant feelings the sentence gave him. He had learned Sign Language for Yaku, no matter how tricky it got. But Noya hadn’t. Noya had given up. </p><p>“Stop smirking like that. It makes you look suspicious,” Kenma said, pausing to take a picture of the ride they were about to go on. The shutter flashed so quickly, you could only tell it got the image by the noise. “It makes you look like a Villain NPC too.”</p><p>“That again? Awww. Kenma, I’ve dearly missed your video game insults. It’s great to see them back,” He reached forward to ruffle Kenma’s hair, but the boy gripped his wrist with icy fingers and gave him the look of death. </p><p>“Don’t touch my hair, Rooster Head. You’ll ruin it and make it look like yours.”</p><p>“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” </p><p>“It’s crayons,” Akaashi announced. </p><p>“YEAH!” Noya cheered loudly. Yaku clapped, wearing an amused expression. </p><p>“What? There’s no way,” Oikawa muttered, glaring at Akaashi. </p><p>“That’s correct,” Tsukki said flatly. </p><p>“Come on!” Suga said. “Alright, enough. Akaashi, it’s your turn to be the other announcer. I’m done standing at the sidelines because Salty-shima doesn’t want to play.”</p><p>“Of course. But that would make it Kuroo-san and Kozume-san’s turn.” </p><p>“Let’s get this done,” Kenma sighed, looked at his word on Tsukki’s phone, and stared directly into Kuroo’s eyes. He signed, perfectly, two words: salt shaker.</p><p>“Salt shaker?” Kuroo repeated.</p><p>“Okay, hang on, that’s cheating,” Iwaizumi stepped towards them intimidatingly. </p><p>“They didn’t talk. Kuroo and Kozume-san win.” Tsukki smiled at the betrayed look painted on the other team’s faces. </p><p>“I agree!” Suga started corralling them forward. “And now it’s our turn to go on the ride, so no more arguing.” </p><p>Just like the first ride, a rush came hand and hand with his dangling feet and the sensation of suspension. Kenma was smiling next to him, Bokuto was shouting loud enough for the entire group, and it felt good. It put this honest grin on his face. Nothing was forced because everything was so light, and he could forget everything wrong with the world for a pure 50 seconds. </p><p>“That was awesome!” Suga said, beaming at everyone’s dizzy legs. Just to spite them, he was walking backwards in a perfect line. </p><p>“I’m gonna be sick,” Oikawa said dramatically, placing a hand on his forehead in false pain. </p><p>“We all know your fine, Trashy-kawa,” Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa’s back aggressively. “Quit trying to throw a pity party.” </p><p>“Stop! I’m going to throw up, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa complained. “And I’d never lie about important things like my medical state.” </p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Iwaizumi sighed, then smiled. So the good mood was even reaching to the depths of Mr. Grumpy’s soul. </p><p>“Racing next! It’s time for Tsukishima and I to destroy these Tokyo boys!” Sugawara grabbed Tsukki's arm, pointing dramatically at the lake. </p><p>“Is that your way of saying ‘City Boys’ without sounding like Tanaka-san?” </p><p>“Shush! It’s catchy when you use it smartly!” </p><p>Five minutes later and water had already seeped into Kuroo’s socks. Bokuto was tilting their peddle boat at a sharper and sharper angle. “Faster, Kuroo! We have to at least beat Akaashi!”</p><p>“You’re not even helping. And stop wiggling so much,” Kuroo put a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, bro. I know we’ll win.”</p><p>Bokuto caught the glint in his eyes, and he nodded seriously. “Let’s dominate everyone, dude.” They started spinning the pedals so fast water droplets flew into the air and blew around in the wind like a bridal veil. </p><p>Noya let out a shout from next to Yaku. They watched in horror as the S. S. Fan Club (what they christened their boat at the start of this whole thing) sped past them. Kuroo flashed a ‘later’ sign to Yakkun, who stuck out his tongue in a sublime example of bad sportsmanship. </p><p>“Iwa-chan! They’re catching up!” Oikawa shouted.</p><p>“Splash them!” Iwaizumi ordered. Oikawa smacked his hand against the water’s surface, sending a massive wave of water straight towards the S. S. Fan Club. Their boat, traveling at a rapid pace towards the finish line, rammed into the waves caused by Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s float. It flew in the air for half a second before landing and tipping over completely. It dumped him out in a whirlwind of fizzy bubbles and upside down force. </p><p>Kuroo broke out of the water with a gasp, looking around for Bokuto. He swiped his black hair out of his eyes frantically. Searching, searching, <em> searching, </em> for a friend he needed, a friend who’d found him and now was lost. Just as he started to really panic, Bokuto appeared at the top of their upside down boat, looking very dry and very smug. “I held on! I held on the whole time, Kuroo!”</p><p>“Incredible,” Kuroo muttered drily, swimming towards the boat. “We’re going to get in so much trouble for this.” </p><p>“How? We didn’t mean to tip over!” </p><p>“Yeah, but-” Kuroo gripped the edge of the tiny paddle boat, careful not to disrupt Bokuto’s balance. “Someone has to take the blame.” </p><p>“It was an incident.” Kuroo could hear Oikawa batting his eyelashes from here. “I had no idea it would happen. We’ll make sure Kuro-chan and Bokkun stay out of trouble for the rest of the visit!”</p><p>Now Sugawara was stepping out of his boat from his place beside Tsukki, clad in a concerned look and honest, apologetic eyes. His voice didn’t get as loud as Oikawa’s, but his words must have worked. The employees nodded in understanding.</p><p>Peddling up to them the Apathy Titanic. “Need a lift?” Akaashi asked. Kenma sighed. </p><p>“Are you seriously going to allow them on a boat with us? Let them suffer, Akaashi-san,” Kenma’s face soured when he looked over to the upside down S. S. Fan Club. “This is what they get for failing a simple side quest.”</p><p>Bokuto completely ignored the complaints. He leapt onto the back of Akaashi’s boat. It rocked back and forth dangerously, but didn’t tip over, to Kuroo’s relief. </p><p>“Don’t try that,” Kenma said, staring at Kuroo with an intense glare. </p><p>Kuroo grinned in response, just to annoy him. </p><p>“You heard Kozume-san,” Akaashi reiterated. </p><p>“Bokuto? Please, man.” </p><p>Bokuto pouted and started to wave him over. Kenma knocked his hand down. </p><p>“I bet I can swim faster than you can pedal,” Kuroo said, before taking a huge breath  and swimming towards the dock with the speed of a duck. </p><p>“Go, go, go, Akaashi!” Bokuto shouted.</p><p>“Stop wiggling so much!” Kenma screamed. “No wonder Kuro fell in.” </p><p>Kuroo swam past Noya and Yaku, both of which were still frozen in surprise. He pulled himself up next to Tsukki and collapsed backwards onto the splintery boardwalk. The sun dried up the water on his cheeks, and he closed his eyes. It reminded him so much of jumping into the river with Tendou and getting soaked to the bone trying to find Yaku’s notebook. </p><p>Getting drenched with water was secretly his formula for making friends, it seemed. </p><p>Let him get yelled at. </p><p>This was the best day ever. </p><p>“Kuroo-san? Kuroo-san, are you alright?” Sugawara shook him gently. “Do we need to get some medical help?” </p><p>“No,” Kuroo waved him off unsuccessfully. He forced himself to open his eyes and look at Suga, who’s silver hair sparkling in the midday sun gave him an angelic halo. </p><p>“Thank goodness,” Sugawara let out a sigh and went over to apologize again to the manager of the ride. Yaku started shaking Kuroo’s shoulder angrily. </p><p>“Yakkun, I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry!” Sitting up, Kuroo held his hands up in surrender. “Look, my phone’s fine. It was zipped in my pocket the whole time!” The bread charm hung limply between their eyes. Yaku let out an amused laugh/gasp before punching his side so hard a bruise immediately formed. </p><p>“Okay, enough,” Tsukki made a disgusted face. “Kuroo, no one wants to see your girly phone.”</p><p>Kuroo pocketed it, good mood ebbing away. </p><p>“Haha, dude you look awful!” Noya crackled at his expense. “And your hair looks like a wet cat!” </p><p>There was a pause, where everyone, still hung up on their concern, were afraid to agree.</p><p>But then Akaashi giggled, so of course Bokuto joined him, and then all of them were laughing so hard no one could tell Kuroo sounded like a hyena or that the S. S. Fan Club had to be recovered by tired staff members. </p><p>“Kuroo,” Tsukishima grabbed his arm, pulling him away from their group as they exited the ride. “You should probably go get cleaned up. I’ll go too.”</p><p>Weird. “Oh, you don’t have to-”</p><p>“I’m not really asking. If you get sick, I’m going to feel awful, and I don’t like feeling worried about other people.” </p><p>“Wow, you didn’t make that nearly clear enough, Tsukki,” Kuroo muttered. </p><p>“Shut up, Kuroo.” Tsukki let out a huff, and Kuroo really hated the way it reminded him of Yaku. He followed Tsukishima’s long shadow all the way across the park. People were definitely watching him, a strange teenager dripping water on the concrete behind him like a trail of ants. </p><p>“Hurry, okay? After this, you’re buying me strawberry shortcake,” Tsukki ushered him into the bathroom. Kuroo waited for his eyes to adjust, but before he could really get a good look, Tsukishima started tearing paper towels out of the dispenser and patting them on Kuroo’s face. </p><p>“Stop-!” Kuroo tried to soften the harshness of Tsukishima’s aggressive hits. “Let me do it!” Tsukki backed away, an indifferent expression not matching how his fists were tightly clenched. </p><p>Tsukishima didn’t say anything for a while. He just watched Kuroo twist the water out of his shirt and push his hair backwards fruitlessly. He almost looked...upset.</p><p>“Hey,” Kuroo said suddenly. “Thanks.”</p><p>“What?” Tsukki’s eyebrows flew up unwittingly. “Why?”</p><p>“For helping me.”</p><p>“Don’t say that like it’s obvious. I know you hate me.”</p><p>“I don’t hate you.”</p><p>The screams and laughs from outside floated through the window and echoed against the tile floor of the bathroom. </p><p>Tsukishima shut his eyes. “I think I’m searching for a person who no longer exists.” </p><p>“Eh?” Kuroo took a step backwards, unsettled. “Who?”</p><p>“I miss your cunning jokes and sharp smiles,” Tsukki said.</p><p>“I was terrible back then. Don’t miss that person.”</p><p>“Terrible?”</p><p>“Yes, terrible. I’m <em> trying </em> to change.”  </p><p>“Are you done?” Tsukishima asked sharply. “You owe me strawberry shortcake.”</p><p>“...Yeah.” </p><p>They made their way into the burning sunshine and the sound of whirling metal. Kuroo was left following Tsukishima’s shoes. Mid walk, he stopped suddenly, and Kuroo ran right into his back.</p><p>“Ah-Daishou-san?” Tsukki exclaimed. </p><p>Kuroo watched in horror as Daishou’s eyes narrowed in equal heaps of surprise and anger. </p><p>Daishou. Manipulative, lying, back-stabbing Daishou. Daishou, who would order water at the counter just fill it up with soda. His friend, his enemy, and someone who just laughed along when Yaku’s life was ruined. Someone who dished out sharp words and received them just as much. Daishou, who chose today to pull up awful memories out of the graveyard-a day he was enjoying. </p><p>The anger came in a rush, flooding his bones before leaving him drained and exhausted. Mostly, he was just upset at seeing a person who had been his friend, while trying to enjoy time with his current, <em> actual </em> friends. </p><p>“Kuroo. Tsukishima-san.” </p><p>“What are you doing here?” Tsukishima asked, pausing to glance over at Kuroo with worried eyes. He struggled to swallow and say something, but nothing was coming up. He felt sick, worse than the roller coaster, worse than having the whole world judging him. </p><p>“Riding roller coasters. You?”</p><p>“We just came to celebrate summer break.”</p><p>“Same,” Daishou said, still glaring at Kuroo. He wanted to hit him, to yell, to disappear, to cry. He was being thrown into the past, pushed and pulled by the ocean of memories that was so heavy it held him down, and he couldn’t swim. </p><p>He was going to drown. </p><p>“Want to hang out? Kuroo and I were just talking about you!” </p><p>“What?!” The words came out in a hiss. “Tsukki?!” </p><p>“I haven’t seen you in so long! And Kuroo misses you.” Tsukishima threw an arm around him. “It’s not like you're hanging out with anyone.”</p><p>“What?” Daishou jerked back. “Why the hell would I want to <em> hang </em>...hang out with either of you?”</p><p>“Come on!” Tsukki’s voice was growing lime green- the color of deceit and fake summer lies. Shut up. Shut up, Tsukishima. <em> Stop talking, </em> please. “We were on the same volleyball team for three years! Of course you’d want to talk with us!”</p><p>“No thanks,” He grew shifty eyed, looking back and forth like a slow grandfather clock. Those eyes were the first ones Kuroo had grown to hate. The first ones that lied, lied, lied to him until he might as well just say he’d never thought of Kuroo as a genuine friend. </p><p>“Wait,” Tsukishima took a step towards Daishou, but he melted into the crowd. He turned around to find Kuroo, and there was a hurt glint in his eyes. Kuroo was too angry to feel even somewhat bad for him. He started storming in the direction towards his friends. </p><p>The day felt ruined, and the fact that it was getting cloudier didn’t help at all. </p><p>“Kuroo! Kuroo, wait!” Tsukki ran to catch up with him. </p><p>“Leave me alone.”</p><p>“I just thought,” There was a very slight tremor in his voice, stomped out like an ember before Kuroo could focus on it, “I thought that if we hung out with him you’d act normal again.” </p><p>“‘Normal?’” Tsukki’s left foot was bouncing up and down, tap, tap, tapping against the concrete. His eyes were burning into Kuroo. He started walking away faster, hoping to outrun the conversation. Tsukishima wasn’t done. </p><p>“Are you mad at me, Kuroo?” </p><p>“No,” He lied. “No, I’m not mad.”</p><p>“Kuroo, you’re acting like such a coward. Neither of us had seen him in years! Don’t you miss that? I was doing a favor.”</p><p>“Mind your own business.” </p><p>Kuroo found their group, smiling and talking, looking happy in an innocent way. They were all getting along because Kuroo had forced them. It was all his fault. He had never felt like more of an outsider, more of a puppeteer. </p><p>“Kuroo?”</p><p>*</p><p>He felt sick. </p><p>Leaning over in his spot in the shade, watching the wind try desperately to steal people’s hats, supposed to be enjoying the best day ever, Kuroo felt sick. </p><p>His stomach twisted, his head throbbed from the heat, and his palms were sweating. Surely at any second one of his friends would figure it out, that he had pulled them all together, tied their snipped strings back into tight knots, and it was his fault. He had brought back bad memories for Suga, for Yaku, for Oikawa, and yet all of them were too sweet to say anything. He messed up. He ruined it. He couldn’t-he needed to-</p><p>Breathe. </p><p>“You didn’t even buy me strawberry shortcake. Maybe you haven’t changed,” Tsukki said. His dry, sarcastic voice felt like sandpaper because Kuroo was just as angry at Tsukki as he was with himself. He decided not to say anything. The words that might come out would be too bitter, too much like the 12 year old he was trying to smother. </p><p>“You and me are alike, you know.” Kuroo’s clasped hands tightened, tightened like this spiral that he couldn’t crawl out of no matter what he did, no matter how many friends he made, no matter how hard he tried to repair things.</p><p>“We’re not.” They couldn’t be. Not after what happened in the gym. They couldn’t be alike. </p><p>“We are.” It was the stupid truth, as permanent as the scar on Yaku’s ear. “We were.” </p><p>“Whatever.” </p><p>Tsukki’s next sentence came out cold and hard. “If Yaku-san hadn’t shown up, everyone would be happy.” </p><p>“You don’t know that.” </p><p>The tension brewing under the surface during practice, ‘Mr. Refreshing,’ the ‘jokes’ thrown between Kuroo, Daishou and Tendou, Takeda-sensei’s lack of interference, Tsukki’s aloof jabs, the growing boredom of cruel 6th years: all of it had already been there before Yaku had shown up. It would have become something awful, but Yaku had chosen to appear at the worst time with his messed up hearing, lack of communication skills, weird haircut, arrogant attitude, and tacky clothes. </p><p>He had just been unlucky.</p><p>“It’s true. If he hadn’t shown up, nothing would have gotten between you and Daishou-san. And things wouldn’t be so weird between Sugawara-san and I.”</p><p>“Daishou.” Thinking about him and his shifty eyes turned Kuroo’s stomach upside down, and not in the fun roller coaster way. He swallowed nervously. “Daishou and I…It wasn't meant to work out.”</p><p>“What? So you’re just giving up on the idea of ever being his friend again?”</p><p>“No!” Kuroo said immediately. “Wait, yeah. Yeah. Daishou was a bad friend. But...but so was I back then. It’s too late to fix things.”</p><p>“Well, look who’s Mr. Hakuna Matata now. Are you at peace with yourself?” Tsukki asked in a patronizing voice. </p><p>Kuroo shut his eyes, trying to block him out. Of course he wasn’t ‘at peace.’ Every day his thoughts tugged and dragged him up and down like he was a doll. He worried all the time about Yakkun, and he was too chicken to even stare people in their eyes. His little brother hated him, his best friend was going to leave him for Akaashi Keiji, his whole gang of friends was built through his manipulation, and he still heard stranger’s whispering about him in the hall.</p><p>Now there was this. Daishou and Tsukki, who couldn’t leave him be. </p><p>He had nothing to say. If he uttered a word, the churning in his stomach might unleash itself along with it. </p><p>“Kuroo, be completely honest. Do you hate me?” </p><p><em> This again. </em>“Probably.” </p><p>Being honest was always less important than being polite. That had always been a rule integrated into everything, but now Tsukki had wanted honesty. Kuroo had delivered it.</p><p>“O-Kay!” Lime green words. “Time to go on the Ferris Wheel! I’ll ask Yaku-san to go with me.!”</p><p>“Oi!” Worry motivated his legs to move even when they felt too weak to take a step. “Tsukishima!” The whole group stared at them with looks ranging from surprised to amused. </p><p>“Yaku-san!” Tsukishima crooned, placing his hands on Yaku’s tight shoulders, trapping him in. “Let’s go ride the Ferris Wheel! That’s your favorite, right?” Yaku tilted his head, confused, but Tsukki ignored it. </p><p>“Hang on, can you take my camera?” Kenma handed it to his cousin. “Sugawara-san and I were thinking about going on the FreeFaller next.”</p><p>“Ohh! I want to go on that one too!” Bokuto stood up excitedly, nearly tripping in his enthusiasm. Oikawa laughed, and they didn’t seem to care at all that Tsukki was taking Yaku hostage, pulling him away from Kuroo and into the past. Only Suga watched them walk towards the ride. </p><p>Kuroo followed them helplessly with his eyes as they got on and drifted upwards, reaching towards the thick gray clouds. Part of him wanted to sob, and the other half hated himself for not saying anything. </p><p>“Do you want to stay and wait for them?” Noya, the last person Kuroo expected, came up to him first. “Or are you planning on riding the FreeFaller?”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ll wait.”</p><p>“Me too.” </p><p>There was no way around it. The situation was awkward. Kuroo couldn’t even drown himself in worries.</p><p>The silence was so weird. Noya was probably judging him right now, for being such a creep and waiting for their shared friend to come back. They both knew Yaku would be fine. Right? No sounds, no words being exchanged, nothing. Nishinoya was definitely thinking he was strange now. Had he said anything offensive today? Of course he had, everything he said was bad. Just talk. Just talk, Kuroo!</p><p>“I’m going home after this.”</p><p>“Me too.” </p><p>“No-!” Kuroo coughed. “I mean, no…way! I guess we’ll be getting on the same train then?” </p><p>“God, I hope not.” </p><p><em> Brutal. </em> </p><p>It was brutally honest. Kuroo couldn’t agree more.</p><p>*</p><p>After flashing his very important, very personal ‘later’ sign to Yaku, Kuroo ended up getting on the afternoon train with, yes, Nishinoya Yuu. Unlike with Yaku, he couldn’t even enjoy the scenery. At least it wasn’t excruciatingly crowded. And talking on the train was disrespectful! So he didn’t have to worry about that...</p><p>Not even two minutes after the train started moving, his phone buzzed. </p><p> </p><p>From: Kiyokosanisaqueen4@gmail.com</p><p>Stay away from Morisuke-kun. </p><p> </p><p>It only took Kuroo four seconds to figure out Noya was sending him the messages. He made him a contact, mostly out of spite. </p><p> </p><p>To: Nishinoya Boo I:&lt;</p><p>I’m pretty sure this counts as cyber bullying.</p><p> </p><p>From: Nishinoya Boo I:&lt;</p><p>You’re one to talk about bullying!!</p><p>Kenma told me the whole story on the car ride there</p><p>&gt;:(</p><p>Leave my best friend alone</p><p>also your bread charm is bad</p><p> </p><p>Kuroo couldn’t take him seriously when he threw out insults like a kindergartener. The fact that he used the ‘&gt;:(‘ face during a ‘confrontation,’ was the cherry on top.</p><p> </p><p>To: Nishinoya Boo I:&lt;</p><p>Yakkun gave me it. Basically you’re just dissing him right now.</p><p> </p><p>Nishinoya let out an audible yelp. A few people turned to look. Kuroo suffocated his laugh in his hand. He couldn’t even get upset. Noya was such an outsider in the whole drama, there was nothing he could say that Kuroo hadn’t already heard or told himself. Yaku was a part of both their lives, and the sooner they decided to accept that, the sooner this useless feud would end. </p><p>*</p><p>Suga sighed, leaning backwards. The sherbert-colored sunset was pointing directly at his face through the square-shaped window, casting long shadows across the train’s floor. The orange light was draining him. It was tiring to be around so many people for so many hours. He was ready to sleep. Next to him, with the same idea, Tsukki slumped in his seat with stiff shoulders and an uncomfortable expression. </p><p>“Was it have fun?” Sugawara whispered, leaning in towards Tsukishima. </p><p>“Yeah.” His voice was tight- that meant he felt guilty. </p><p>“Did you get to catch up with everyone?”</p><p>
  <em> Why were you talking to Mori-kun? Why did you insist on leaving once Kuroo-san did? Why did you ignore me the whole time? </em>
</p><p>“Yeah.” He sounded so disinterested, it reminded Suga of Elementary School all over again, where he’d blow someone off a tilt of the chin. He could make you feel bad just by smirking. </p><p>Suga was different now. He wasn’t scared anymore. “That makes me happy to hear.”</p><p>“Sugawara-san, why did you invite me?” Tsukki asked, voice shaking unwittingly at the end. His eyes were wide, and he looked raw. “Don’t you dislike me by now? I know we’re on the same volleyball team, but we hardly speak, and, well, we don’t agree on anything. Why are you being so...nice? It’s gross.” </p><p>
  <em> I’m proving myself. I’m getting over my fears. I’m changing. </em>
</p><p>“Tsukishima, I worry for you.”</p><p>“Don’t. That’s weird. I already have one mom and a crappy older brother. Just leave me alone,” He leaned away. </p><p>“We don’t have to hate each other!” Suga’s voice grew too loud, and he struggled to pull it in. “We can be friends. We <em> are </em> friends.” </p><p>“We are <b>not</b> friends,” Tsukki shook his head in denial. He stood up and walked to the other side of the train car, turning his back towards Suga. He was looking right out the window, but Sugawara doubted he was paying attention to the golden light painting streaks across his grim face. </p><p>*</p><p>“Okay, but-” Bokuto laughed again, pulling Akaashi’s hand closer to him while trying to balance the ice cream cone in the other. “No-no hear me out, though? Earth could be a triangular prism!”</p><p>“There’s no way!” Akaashi was smiling again, looking like an angel with sunburned cheeks and melted chocolate running down his other hand. Their warm shoulders bumped again. “Haven’t you seen pictures of the Earth from above? It’s a circle.”</p><p>“I know that! But worlds-” He struggled to get air into his lungs, gulping and grinning and trying to eat his ice cream all at once. “Worlds can be all sorts of shapes!” </p><p>“What?” Akaashi let out a breathy laugh. “The world is a sphere. Is our next study session going to be Geography?”</p><p>Bokuto pouted; Akaashi wasn’t catching on like he hoped. This whole afternoon had been a dream, though, something perfect and hazy and unreal under a stormy gray sky. “Can you not bring up school? We don’t have to worry about it for a whole two months.”</p><p>“Ah, of course, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi let go of his hand and linked their pinkies. He raised them up between eye level and Bokuto tried not to show how absolutely flustered it made him feel.  “No school talk. I promise.”</p><p>“Akaashi,” Bokuto ate the other half of his ice cream cone before continuing. “I was wondering if we, well, if we-”</p><p>Before he could finish, a flicker of light reflected off of Akaashi’s dark eyes. Thunder rolled in after it, the quiet, deep afterthought. </p><p>“Didn’t you say thunder always follows your sentences?” </p><p>“That was a long time ago!” </p><p>“A month.”</p><p>The speaker crackled to life for the first time today. The static fizzled for a minute longer, before the words started coming out properly. “Due to lightning in the area, we advise all current visitors to make their way home. The park will be closing in approximately one hour and thirty minutes.”</p><p>“Ah. We better get on the train then.” Akaashi moved to turn away, but Bokuto grabbed his hand again.</p><p>“No way! We still have an hour and twenty-nine minutes left of fun!”</p><p>“I think it’ll take more than a minute to walk to the exit.”</p><p>“We’ll run!”</p><p>“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said in a calm voice. </p><p>“Fine! An hour and <em> twenty-four </em>minutes then!”</p><p>“Deal,” Akaashi nodded. Lightning illuminated the tree line and the skeleton of the roller coaster behind him. Suddenly, without any warning, it started pouring. It wasn’t just a few drops, no. It was a full-on drenching. A substitution for a shower. It was gallons of water so cold and quick that they made tear tracks down Akaashi’s face and caught onto his dark eyelashes. The rain rushed to the tips of Akaashi’s hair like it would the end of green leaves. He pulled his arms close to himself, tilting his head helplessly at Bokuto’s stare.</p><p>Bokuto’s arms moved heavily, but completely out of his control. He hugged Akaashi as tightly as he could, soaking up the warmth for not even a second before he pushed him away. Akaashi looked embarrassed and upset, eyes as dark as the clouds filling the sky above them. </p><p>Akaashi started pulling him straight towards the Ferris wheel, even as the rain got so heavy it was hard to even see a few feet forwards. </p><p>“What-?!” Bokuto tried to free his arm, but his grip was like iron. “Akaashi, you don’t seriously want us to go on it, do you?”</p><p>“I intend for us to.”</p><p>“Whahaha! No!” Bokuto knew he sounded hysterical, but honestly, he had never been the voice of reason in their relationship. “That thing is metal! It’s storming!”</p><p>“Weren’t you the one who said in order to feel more confident, I had to do scary things?”</p><p>“That was-That was back in 3rd year of middle school! That when you barely made any faces!” If anything, that seemed to encourage Akaashi. </p><p>“This theme park never enforces rules. That’s why Sugawara-san picked it, and that’s why high schoolers love it. We’re riding that thing right now.” Bokuto’s clothes stuck to his skin, he couldn’t hear a thing over the loud patter of rain, and he’d probably have to walk home after this, but all he could focus on was Akaashi’s warm hand in his, acting so impulsively it was horrifying.</p><p>“I can’t say no to you,” Bokuto admitted. They got on right away, the only ones at the park by now. The poor employee stared at them in unveiled shock. Bokuto could sympathize with him. </p><p>The only times he was only brought to reality were when Akaashi did something so out of character that he was forced into the role of damage control. And this, this was the first time he had experienced it. </p><p>If only he hadn’t stolen that warm hug! </p><p>“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi’s hands were folded in his lap now, stolen away from Bokuto. “I need to ask you a question.” They started moving upward, towards the rain that threatened to wash everything away like it had never existed in the first place. </p><p>Bokuto couldn’t lie; this whole situation scared him. </p><p>“What is it? Are you sick? You’re acting sick,” Bokuto’s words rushed out faster than water was coming out of the sky above. </p><p>“I’m not sick,” Akaashi’s calm voice had returned, despite the fact that they were swinging back and forth as the wind howled from every direction. “But you might be. Your cheeks are really red.”</p><p>“Not sick!” Bokuto shouted, plastering his back against the plastic seat. “I’m fine!”</p><p>“Good,” said Akaashi. </p><p>Bokuto squirmed, feeling like a bug trapped under a cup. Usually, he liked how well Akaashi read his mind, but in this moment it felt like a curse. </p><p>“Bokuto-san...Bokuto-san, do you like me?”</p><p>“What? Of course I do!”</p><p>“Not that way,” His sentences were getting softer and softer, as opposed to the increasing volume of Bokuto’s words. “In a gay way.”</p><p>“Uh.” He short circuited, like an electric radio left on the porch to get damaged in a storm. The words were not coming out. “Uh.”</p><p>“Well, we’ve-we...Okay.” Akaashi took a deep breath. “To be completely honest, this whole day felt like a date.”</p><p>“Why? Because we held hands?” </p><p>“Yes,” He said flatly. </p><p>“Argh! If only the moon hadn’t existed at training camp! Then I wouldn’t have thought it was okay!” Bokuto yanked his damp baseball cap off. By now they had almost reached the top of the circle. The rain was getting lighter and the thunder echoing their sentences was fading away. </p><p>“Do you mean you wish it had been a new moon?” </p><p>“Isn’t that the brightest one?”</p><p>“No, it’s one you can’t see. It...It’s like the moon is being born again.” Akaashi smiled, and Bokuto’s heart started beating in his ears. </p><p>“Akaashi, I like you.” </p><p>Before Bokuto could add anything else, they got to the top of the Ferris Wheel, touching the arch of the sky. He could see everything from here, the cars and the fluffy pink clouds and the way the sun was tentatively peeking out after the rain. The little roads and the tall buildings and the whole sky stretching out its arms across the world. </p><p>“You know, it’s supposed to be a full moon tonight,” Akaashi was ignoring him in favor of the view. His blue eyes flickered over to Bokuto. “Want to go somewhere together?” </p><p>“I-I’d love to!”</p><p>“The chance of you saying no was about one percent,” Akaashi admitted as they descended. </p><p>“What? How’d you know?” Bokuto shouted. </p><p>“You’re obvious.” </p><p>“I’m not!”</p><p>“Right. So unpredictable I’ve grown to expect the weirdest things,” He said.</p><p>“Akaashi!” </p><p>“Also, Kozume-san told me about the ‘Akaashi method.’” He cleared his throat. “Bokuto-san, that was really embarrassing.” </p><p>“Kenma! It was Kenma’s fault!” Bokuto nearly stood up. </p><p>“I think I could have figured it out without his help.”</p><p>“I’m sorry! I was just desperate to talk to you.”</p><p>“Don’t make that face,” Akaashi said suddenly. </p><p>“Eh?” Bokuto looked up. “What face?”</p><p>“The one where you stick out your bottom lip, like this,” Akaashi pouted, “and your hair deflates,” he patted down his already soaking wet hair, “then your eyes get a lonely shimer to them.” </p><p>“I do not make that face!” Bokuto protested. </p><p>“You’re doing it right now,” Akaashi went back to his normal poker face. Good. It was weird to see him without it. “You aren’t lonely anymore. Kuroo-san and I are your friends now. Kozume-san, too.”</p><p>“That’s,” Bokuto sat up, wide eyed, “true.” There wasn’t going to be anymore eating lunch outside by himself. There wasn’t going to be another group project done by a team of one. No more friendless summers or drawn-out days thinking about owls and Akaashi-san and how much he wished his parents would stay at home for longer intervals. </p><p>Now he had friends!</p><p>“Hang on! Akaashi, I don’t just want to be friends. Quit trying to distract me!” Akaashi looked startled. “You never said if you liked me back or not!” </p><p>“I accepted your confession,” He replied, frowning. </p><p>“When?” </p><p>The door opened right as Akaashi said, in an exasperated voice, “When I asked you on a date, Bokuto-san.” </p><p>“A date?” Bokuto repeated. There was no sensation like this, no dream that could even echo how he was feeling. His fingers tingled, his lungs twisted, and butterflies flew around his stomach. His feet refused to move until Akaashi grabbed his hand and pulled him away, straight into the night sky and towards the moon. </p><p>*</p><p>“Iwa-chan, can’t you drive faster?”</p><p>“I’m going the speed limit <em> and </em> it's raining. Stop whining to me,” Iwaizumi didn’t look at Oikawa while driving. He always kept his eyes on the road ahead, which annoyed his best friend because he was an <em> attention seeking child. </em> </p><p>Oikawa reached forward and turned the music up obnoxiously loud. The indie rock that Iwaizumi preferred was replaced right away by Oikawa’s awful pop. </p><p>“Turn it down, Trashy-kawa,” He ordered, slowing down to let someone pass him up on the road. The windshield was whipped twice before Oikawa finally obliged, lowering it down til the rain washed the sound away. </p><p>“No loud music? Years of private school really did make you upright,” Oikawa mused. </p><p>“It’s been six years. Can’t you drop that?”</p><p>“Please accept my humble apology, Iwaizumi-sama.” </p><p>“Oi, close your mouth,” Iwazumi growled. He got two minutes of peace before said mouth opened again. </p><p>“I saw you put the charm on your school bag.”</p><p>“Where would I put it?” Oikawa started to respond. “Don’t answer.”</p><p>There was something about driving in the dark, something equally dangerous as it was relaxing. The way the car headlights would reflect off the water sliding down the car windows. How the tires sounded when they ran through a puddle. Bright highway lights struggling to cut through the darkness. </p><p>“I wasn’t kidding, though, about the school thing. You’re so straight it hurts!” Oikawa exclaimed. </p><p>“Who says I’m straight?” Iwaizumi glared at the road. </p><p>“I meant your spine!” Oikawa scoffed. “You didn’t have to call me out so many times about silly stuff at the amusement park today.”</p><p>“<em> You </em> didn’t have to lie so much!”</p><p>“I didn’t lie at all.” </p><p>This was a constant argument between them, even since middle school, the first time they were in the same class. A push and pull of owning up and feeding an ego. </p><p>“Oikawa, you blamed Kuroo-kun and Bokuto-san for that boat incident.” </p><p>“Don’t use that ‘disappointed father’ tone with me,” Oikawa protested. “And it was their fault. If they hadn’t been wiggling around or whatever they were doing, no one would have fallen off. It was awful for me as well. So many employees were staring at me.” If they were texting, Oikawa would have followed his sentence up with a :’( </p><p>“You can’t even pull that on me,” Iwaizumi said, forcing himself to focus on the driving instead of the storm brewing inside their car. “I know you love people giving you attention. How do you think Kuroo-kun felt being soaked through and then getting blamed by everyone?”</p><p>“Why do you like Kuro-chan so much?” Oikawa asked, completely leaping away from their argument like it was nothing. Iwaizumi was still irritated, so he decided to ignore him. That was always the best tactic to annoy his best friend. </p><p>“You were on Yakkun’s team for charades, right? Did you like him?” </p><p>Honest, good-natured and somewhat short tempered. And the fact that he was deaf was unusual, sure, but it didn’t change the former things about him. “Yes.” </p><p>“You know, he’s always been so quick to anger! He’s mellowed out a bit, but it kind of reminds me of you,” Oikawa said. His laugh was quickly cut short by the glare Iwaizumi shot him. </p><p>“There’s nothing wrong with holding your friends to a standard,” Iwaizumi retorted gruffly. </p><p>“Ugh. Your ‘standards’ are taller than the skyscrapers in Tokyo.”</p><p>“You say it like we don’t live in Tokyo.” </p><p>“I felt like such a tourist today, getting pushed around with the crowd. Thank goodness you drove me, Iwa-chan, so I didn’t have to ride the train like Suga-chan or Kuro-kun.”</p><p>“Suga-chan, what’s your deal with him?” </p><p>Oikawa didn’t say anything, and Iwaizumi thought to repeat himself. The answer came out carefully. “We were in the same elementary school class. One you would have been in if your parents didn’t make you go to private school.”</p><p>“Do you have to bring that up every five minutes today? That school was known for its crappy rule enforcement. It got into trouble with the district every hot second.” </p><p>“I know! I got accused of bullying Yakkun once! It was awful,” Oikawa let out a sigh, turning his attention to the cars passing by. </p><p>“Someone bullied Yaku-san?” Iwaizumi asked in alarm; this was new news to him. </p><p>“Yeah. He and Tsukki-kun don’t get along because of it.” The more Iwaizumi thought about it, the more it made sense. They ignored each other on the trip, except for when Tsukishima had grabbed Yaku to go ride on the Ferris Wheel. Both of them talked to Kuroo, though, so he should be able to ask him for more information. </p><p>Right now, he would just have to get answers from the local gossip. </p><p>“Were you there?” He fired questions out rapidly. “Did you try to stop it? What happened?”</p><p>“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa rested his head on his chin, sighing as if Iwaizumi didn’t understand a thing. “I was a kid. I didn’t understand the full situation. All I know is that now Tsukki-kun hates him because of it.”</p><p>“Hates him for getting bullied?” Iwaizumi demanded, exiting onto one of the smaller roads. “That makes no sense. Sounds like a fat lie, if you ask me.”</p><p>“I didn’t ask,” Oikawa mumbled grumpily. </p><p>“What did you say? I swear I would smack you right now if I wasn’t driving.”</p><p>“Ahh! Don’t!” He shouted, ducking away. There was a moment of silence as Oikawa tested the boundaries. “Iwa-chan, do you actually think I would lie about something serious like that?”</p><p>The hurt in his tone was really there, and Iwaizumi felt himself giving in. Finally his shoulders relaxed with a sigh. “No, not even you, Oikawa.” </p><p>“What do you mean, ‘not even you?’” Oikawa accused. “Pull over, Iwa-chan. Right now.”</p><p>“What? Why?” Normally, Iwaizumi was used to his friend’s dramatics; In fact, he was so good at handling them that people went to him for help when it spiraled out of control. This was more uprupt than normal, though. </p><p>“Pull over!” He shouted, clenching his fists. Iwaizumi grunted and found a generally empty parking lot up ahead to stall at. </p><p>“Okay? What.” Sooner the problem was addressed, the faster he could go home and sleep.</p><p>“I’m tired of you always thinking that I make things up all the time. It’s embarrassing and I’m done with you calling me out on it in front of all our friends! ‘Not even you, Oikawa.’ <em> ‘Not even you, Oikawa?!’ </em> Why would I lie about the worst year of my life?” </p><p>“The worst year of your life?” </p><p>“<em> Yes </em>. It was awful. The whole class always got in trouble, and no matter what I said, no one would listen!”</p><p>“That’s the worst thing that’s happened to you? No one listened to what you said?” Iwaizumi struggled to grasp the audacity of it all. “Oi-Oikawa, you are the most dramatic, attention-seeking, sly, narcissistic, jealous idiot I know! You hardly take care of yourself, but you always look stupidly good, and all the girls know it! And you get away with everything! Fake words, teasing, ordering around our kouhai! I don’t know anyone as terrible and aw-”</p><p>Oikawa leaned over and kissed him. His warm nose brushed Iwaizumi’s cheek, and his mouth tasted like Tokyo Banana Miitsuketa, which was because he had insisted they buy some like all the other tourists, despite the fact they <em> weren’t </em>tourists. </p><p>Iwaizumi shoved him away at once. Oikawa was smirking. “For someone with such a dirty mouth, your lips are sweet.” Before he could punch some sense into himself and the piece of trash in front of him, Oikawa opened the car door and ran out, laughing. </p><p>Iwaizumi didn’t think he realized that the rain was ruining his perfect brown hair. </p><p>*</p><p>Kenma pulled Morisuke closer to him, protectively, and waved down their grandfather from their spot on the sidewalk. His camera hung to the side like a 50 kilogram weight. They had spent at least two hours sitting against the wall of the amusement park’s entrance, waiting, since everyone had left except Bokuto and Akaashi, and Kenma didn’t want to be around their gushy looks alone. </p><p>He had spent most of the time itching to watch the recorded video, but Morisuke knew, and he stared at Kenma so intensely that he wasn’t willing to press play just yet.</p><p>Instead of pressuring him about it, Kenma showed his cousin pictures he had taken of their Riko-chan, the best cat in the universe. There was one of her stretched out on the wooden floor soaking her white belly in the sun. Another had her eating Mom’s fancy work shoe with her tiny fangs. Morisuke’s favorite was the one where Riko-chan was trying to get Kenma’s attention by swatting at the camera. </p><p>Riko-chan was their grandfather’s cat. She had been the third new guest in Kenma’s house, and the only one that didn’t cause him worry. Cats were so laid back, it actually made him more relaxed. It had the same effect on Morisuke. If he found his cousin pulling their cat close to his chest, that automatically meant it had been a bad day. </p><p>They talked about Sugawara for a bit. Morisuke wiggled out of all his questions pertaining to Kuro or Tsukishima, which was annoying. Kenma had his suspicions, but he’d just have to wait until they got home. </p><p>By now, storm clouds were rumbling in the distance. People ran past them to their cars. Grandpa pulled up, and Morisuke climbed in the backseat. Kenma decided to sit in the front. </p><p>“Sorry I’m late, boys,” Grandpa looked in the rear view mirror at Morisuke, detecting it almost as quickly as Kenma did. Sometimes Kenma forgot he had been around Morisuke even longer than Kenma. “Even though summer’s started, I still had a few work things to clear up, and then there was all this traffic. Where’s Nishinoya?”</p><p>“He went home earlier. He took the train,” Kenma started pulling his camera off, slowly turning it in his lap to look at the black screen. He could feel Yaku’s eyes burning into him. This wasn’t the first time he had recorded something with his acquired skills. Video games had increased his stealth and innovative levels. By now, someone should probably just hire him. </p><p>“You two could have done that!” Nekomata declared. “Why didn’t you go with him?”</p><p>“I don’t like the train that much, and Morisuke didn’t care.” </p><p>“So you just waited.”</p><p>“Mm-hmm.”</p><p>“For how long?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Two hours or something.”</p><p>“Kenma,” he said in a hearty voice. “I don’t want you to do that again.”</p><p>Kenma was itching all over, in a way that couldn’t be satisfied. He was upset that his grandfather didn’t get it. He was just irritated in general. Being around so many people was draining, and he really wanted to see what that tall jerk had done to Morisuke. “Who cares? It’s not like Morisuke takes care of himself anyway. Why should I-”</p><p>“Kenma!” Grandpa scolded in the sternest voice Kenma had ever heard from him. It filled him with uncomfortable guilt, one that sat heavy as a stone in his stomach. Morisuke leaned forward, towards them. The seat belt cut into his neck. </p><p>Kenma exchanged a brief look with his grandfather, before turning to sign ‘it’s okay.’ Morisuke fell backwards against the seat, letting out a frustrated sigh. He hated being left out like that, and Kenma knew it. Still, he didn’t want to let him know that they had just gotten into an argument. </p><p>Morisuke rested his chin on his elbow, staring out the window with a far-away look Kenma wished he could bring back down. The bright stop lights washed over his face, once, twice, and again under the exit sign and shadows danced inside the car. </p><p>“So, did your friend come today?”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Sh-Ku-the boy you were talking about a few days ago.” </p><p>“Shouyou?” Kenma asked, immediately perking up. The thought of fiery orange hair always got him excited, in a way that made him feel uncomfortably like a dog when it got a treat. </p><p>“Shouyou-san, is it?” Grandpa’s driving was fluid and calm. He never had any bumps or incidents. </p><p>Car incidents scared Kenma more than almost anything. The train was bad (all those eyes!), but cars held a different type of fear, one associated with the worst memories, one that took him years to get over. </p><p>“Yes, Shouyou. He didn’t come.”</p><p>“Did you have fun anyway?” </p><p>“I guess.” </p><p>“<em> You guess. </em>”</p><p>“I liked the swing ride.”</p><p>“That’s good.” Kenma didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. “Kenma, it’s nice for you to have fun with friends. I remember going to so many fun places with my best friend Ukai and your grandmother when I was your age. I know our household doesn’t really enforce things the way most do, but if I could make one rule, it would be to make sure my grandchildren have good friends!”</p><p>“Hang on,” Kenma said. “Is that why you introduced Noya to Morisuke?”</p><p>“Exactly why. Noya’s a good boy. I hadn’t expected that they’d hit it off so well, though,” Nekomata smiled. “I have a feeling why.” </p><p>“Their height?” Kenma whispered. They drove under a bridge and directly into a pocket of heavy rain. Pools of street light interrupted the dark road outside. </p><p>“Don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Kenma started to turn backwards to look at Morisuke, but caught himself just in time. </p><p>The drive continued in silence. Kenma watched as the raindrops chased each other and slid together like they were in Pac-Man. The world became a haze of red and blue, stirred together under the dark sky. </p><p>“He fell asleep,” Grandpa said suddenly. </p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Morisuke.” Kenma looked over to his cousin. The tension had faded out of his neck shoulders. Now he was hanging like a rag doll, held up by the seat belt. </p><p>“How was he, Kenma?” </p><p>“See, I knew you were just as worried as I was.” </p><p>Nekomata sent him an amused look. </p><p>“I think I’ve reached a point where I don’t know when to worry about him and can I relax.” </p><p>“Really?” </p><p>“Everything was fine today, but then, like a switch or something, he was upset again. Don’t fear, though, Grandpa. I’ve got some extra evidence.” Kenma held up his camera and raised one of his eyebrows suggestively. </p><p>“Kenma, it’s not good to spy on people,” Grandpa said, but it didn’t even sound like a repermation. </p><p>“Yeah,” Kenma mumbled. </p><p>“So, summer break, huh?” </p><p>“Summer break.”</p><p>“Do you have any plans?” Kenma opened his mouth, and Nekomata added: “Plans that <em> don’t </em> include your cousin?” </p><p>“Ah...No.”</p><p>“Why not?” </p><p>“It’s not like summer break is really a big deal. You know I barely go to school anyway.” </p><p>“Well, if you change your mind, Grandpa is right here to drive you! I wouldn’t mind taking you and… Shouyou-san somewhere.” </p><p>“I know what you’re doing,” Kenma pointed at him, scrunching his face up in a glare. </p><p>Nekomata sighed. “Kenma, if your dad-”</p><p>“I get it, you're trying to fill the role of two father figures at once. I get it,”  Kenma frowned at the dashboard. “But I don’t need someone to force me to be social, and I’d prefer if you'd stop bringing it up.”</p><p>“I’m not filling any role except eccentric grandfather, buddy,” Grandpa laughed. </p><p>“That’s not funny,” Kenma said, biting his lip to contain the smile. “You aren’t eccentric. Don’t make a joke about it.”</p><p>“Why? Are you scared of what will happen?” Kenma squirmed, unwilling to respond. “Kenma, promise me you won’t worry about me. I can’t stop you from stressing over your cousin, no matter how unwarranted it is sometimes, but I can let you know that I’m perfectly fine. If anything, I should be worrying about you, don’t you think?” </p><p>“No. I’m fine,” Kenma whispered. </p><p>“Well? Promise?”</p><p>“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I promise not to worry about you.” Sometimes he lied as much as Kuro.</p><p>“Sealed in the teal ocean or something like that, right?”</p><p>“No, sealed under the teal <em> peaks, </em>” Kenma corrected. “And you have to do the sacred oath during a full moon in Haven II.” </p><p>“Haven II?” The next hour was spent explaining the whole plot of the video game. It was a long game, but the controls were easy. They pulled up to their apartment building at 11:04. Kenma walked around the side of the car and shook his cousin awake gently. </p><p>“Morisuke. Morisuke, we’re here.” He opened his chocolate eyes, in that wide-eyed way that came with dreamland innocence. The kind that only lasts a fraction of a second, when you’re suspended between consciousness and a different reality. </p><p>Morisuke yawned and patted Kenma on the head before strolling into the warm night. It was so strange that it left Kenma with a buzzing feeling where his finger tips had been. He struggled to catch up, camera thumping against the side of his leg. They rode the elevator up quietly and opened the door to the apartment. Cold air conditioning blasted Kenma’s face. That meant his mom was home. She always got hot easily. </p><p>Kenma took off his shoes and walked into the kitchen. She greeted him with a disheveled suit and glasses perched on her nose. Still working, then. </p><p>“Dad, did you really have to pick them up so late?” Nekomata stepped out from behind Kenma.”Look, Kenma’s so tired that he can hardly stand.” </p><p>They started arguing a bit, but Kenma was too sleepy to pay much attention to it. He wandered over to the bedroom. Morisuke was already in there, pulling a purring Riko-chan close in his arms.</p><p>A bad day. Morisuke always sat with Riko-chan on bad days. <br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*Happy late birthday, Yaku! I’m sorry I couldn’t get this out fast enough for it to land your birthday. ;-;</p><p>*This chapter was a little over 11k words! It took longer than I expected to edit, but I feel like it was definitely worth it!! :D I really enjoyed writing this chapter.</p>
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